Harry Potter and the Spirit's Heart
by LoneWolf218
Summary: During the chaos of the World Cup, Harry stumbled across a mysterious corpse. Now haunted by thoughts not his own, he must survive the rise of his mortal enemy, the Dark Lord Voldemort. Harry will need every bit of courage he can muster to survive.
1. Prologue: Death and Renewal

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative. I am in no way profiting from this story.

**Harry Potter and the Spirit's Heart**

By LoneWolf218

Prologue: Death and Renewal

Anders felt his staff slowly slip from his numb fingers as he fell to his knees, gasping for breath. He pressed his hand over the deep wound that _damned_ Templar Hunter had given him before Vengeance blew the bastard across the clearing and halfway through a tree. Still, Anders was doing better than the rest of the mages he had been leading. They lay scattered among the Templar they had slain and been slain by.

As the war he and Vengeance had started in Kirkwall grew, the newly independent mages had realized that they simply did not have the numbers or the military training to fight the relentless Templar on equal terms. Instead, they had faded into the shadows of the forests, mountains, and slums of Thedas, trying the wait the enemy out. The Templar had followed, and small skirmishes were breaking out everywhere. Skirmishes such as the one that had just been fought, and technically won, here. Anders had been leading a small group of mage refugees, including some children, when the Templar had descended upon them.

It had been chaos.

Anders had immediately called upon Vengeance to augment his power as the Templar poured out of the trees. He had screamed for the others to fight while blasting the nearest enemy. Some of the quicker mages had been able to draw their staves and join the battle. The rest had been cut down; some before they even realized that there was a threat.

The Templar had been ruthless, like they always were. One woman, whom Anders had always though was too loyal to the cursed Chantry for her own good, had thrown down her staff and tried to surrender. The Templar leader had silently gutted her and moved on without a glance. Her brother, only twelve, had flung himself furiously on the lieutenant, trying to boil the bastard alive. Another Templar had started kicking the boy, shattering ribs and forcing him off, before taking his head off. Anders had been nearby, and brought the Staff of Violation, which he had taken from the corpse of the late First Enchanter Orsino, around in a deadly ark, breaking the standing Templar's neck before smashing the butt down on the downed lieutenant's faceplate, denting it enough to allow fire through to incinerate the man's face.

The Hunter had taken the opportunity to stab him, and Vengeance had responded. After that, all Anders remembered was a haze of pain, fear, and death. He remembered killing Templar and watching his mages, his brothers and sisters, die one by one. Many had fought bravely, not a single one had given in to demons in their final moments, but they died. Finally, it had only been Anders, devoid of Vengeance's aid, against two Templar.

The three had stared at one another, panting. One of the Templar had lost her helmet, and had a nasty burn along one cheek. In another life, Anders might have found her attractive, but even though Vengeance was not in direct control, his rage had prevented Anders from seeing her as anything other than a monster.

"Surrender, apostate!" the other Templar had called. "And you may be shown mercy!" Anders had laughed at that, the man probably meant Tranquility, a fate _worse_ than death. There would be no mercy at the hands of the Templar, there never would be. This was do or die.

"You will pay for what you did here today!" he had shouted back. "You will face JUSTICE!" He brought his staff around, shattering the earth and flinging five stones at the two Templar. The woman had managed to duck behind her shield, but her fellow wasn't so lucky. He toppled as one of the flying stones broke his neck. The woman had charged Anders, desperate to get into close quarters, hoping that Anders would be weaker there. He smiled as he remembered Garrett Hawke, who had taught him how to fight up close and personal. Such things were obviously avoided in the Circle, it might, _gasp_, dull the Templar's edge, make them have to work for their victories.

He had blocked her overhead swing, twisting the staff so that she stumbled past him. When she turned back, he had already drawn his dagger and drove it into the side of her head. For a single moment, their eyes met, killer and killed, and Anders felt a touch of sorrow. Then Vengeance had returned, and the Templar was thrown away with a blast of telekinesis.

Anders looked around, realizing that his vision was dimming. No, no this couldn't be! He still had so much work to do! After Garrett had spared him, he had been certain that he would see the end of the war, see the mages free at last. He couldn't die here! He had to warn everyone, find out how the Templar had known where the group was.

Through sheer force of will, he pushed himself to his feet, trying to call upon Vengeance to sustain him. The spirit/demon tried, but he had been weakened as well by the terrible battle they had just finished. He had stumbled through the trees, not knowing where he was going. His attempts to heal the wound at his side failed, he had not the strength. He fumbled for his last lyrium potion, but it slipped from his fingers and shattered on a root. A small, cold voice in the back of his mind told him that it was too late, that he would never survive this. The rest of his mind rebelled against the notion, but he could not silence the whispers of doom.

He found himself stumbling into an old ruin, which he found curious. He had never seen this before. It was a small place, not even a room. A pit had been dug, and old, worn stone benches surrounded it, going down like steps. In the middle, a strange archway seemed to beckon Anders. He fell once, rolling down the steps, breaking his arm on the way. Still, some force called him, telling him to come. He forced himself back to his feet, stumbling towards the arch.

"_Anders…_" a voice whispered, a voice Anders knew well.

"Karl?" he gasped weakly, looking for his love. "Were… are you, Karl? So dark…"

"_Come, Anders…_" Karl's voice whispered again, and Anders obeyed. Vengeance tried to stop him, saying it was likely a demon at work, but Anders was too tired to care, and Vengeance too weak to stop him.

"Karl… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Anders whispered, stumbling to lean against the arch. "I… tried…" His thoughts drifted away, to Garrett, his friend… who had given him a chance. He had failed Garrett. Merrill, the blood mage, who had somehow turned out to be a better person than he had been, she hadn't murdered a Chantry full of innocents just to bait a reaction. She had offered him mercy, when he would have damned her had their positions been reversed. He thought of Fenris, that blasted elf. Fenris had never trusted him, and now that Anders thought about it, he had been right to not trust. Varric, his friend, his only other friend, as quick with a joke as with his bow. Isabella, that crazy pirate, Avaline, the guardian, the watcher. As his vision faded, as he slowly stumbled through the arch, he found himself missing them, wondering if they would ever learn of his fate, or whether they would even care.

As Anders fell through the arch, he did not come out the other side. Silence filled the forest again, save for the chirping of the birds the fight had scared off. Meanwhile, a dimension apart, Anders fell to his knees again as his sight dimmed to almost nothing.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Harry Potter was getting more worried by the moment. A few minutes ago, he had been drifting off, dreaming of flying in the Quiddich World Cup like Victor Krum had. Then, Arthur Weasley, a member of the Ministry of Magic, had woken him and his friend Ron Weasley, telling them to get a coat on and get out of the tent they were in. He had exited to find the massive campsite in chaos as a group of Dark Wizards made sport of the Muggle family that oversaw the camp. Mr. Weasley had told his children, Harry, and Hermione Granger to flee into the forest while he and the rest of the Ministry dealt with the situation. He, Ron, and Hermione had been with the others at first, but had been distracted by Harry's rival, Draco Malfoy. The slimy jerk had all but admitted that his father, a supporter of the Dark Lord Voldemort, was among the Dark Wizards. After a few insults were slung, Harry and the others had left, having lost Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley. When Harry had reached for his wand, he had realized that it wasn't there. This was a large part in his nervousness.<p>

"Any sign of anyone?" Ron asked Hermione, who was in front.

"Nothing," she whispered back. She raised her lit wand, gazing around the dark forest. In the background, Harry heard another explosion from the direction of the camp. He hoped Mr. Weasley and the others were all right, those masked figures seemed like they would not hesitate to blast anyone who got in their way.

"Wait!" he hissed, holding up his hand. He had just heard something nearby. Ron and Hermione glanced at him, and he pointed to a nearby tree. They quickly pointed their wands at it, but lowered them when Ludo Bagman stepped out.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, stunned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Well, there's sort of a riot going on." Ron said slowly, studying Bagman curiously. Bagman was the head of the Magical Games and Sports, but was not the most… orthodox head of department. Still, that he would be completely unaware of the chaos…

"What?" Bagman gasped. Hermione quickly explained the situation as best she could, and Bagman quickly Disapperated.

"Now what?" Ron asked, looking around. "Should we just stay here?" Harry was about to agree, before he felt a tingle on the back of his neck.

"Something's wrong." He looked around slowly, wondering what had tipped him off. Finally, he heard it. "This way!" He slipped off into the trees, followed by his friends. They soon found a clearing, one that was occupied.

"What is that?" Hermione whispered, nervously watching the shape lying in the center of the clearing. It wasn't moving, but it looked like a person.

"Watch my back." Harry whispered, before creeping forward. He really wished he had his wand, or even his Invisibility Cloak, the only thing he had of his father. However, he reached the shape without incident.

"What is it?" Ron hissed from the edge of the clearing, looking around nervously. Harry studied the person in front of him. It was a man, but without light, Harry couldn't determine much more.

"Light, please." Hermione moved forward, and the light from her wand fell on the man. He had dirty blond hair tied in a short ponytail. He looked to be in his late twenties and wore robes. He also seemed to have been through hell recently. One of his arms was sticking out at an odd angle, and a sickly red stain was spreading from a hole in his robes. Harry heard Hermione gasp behind him.

"Is he… dead?" she whispered. Harry shrugged, mustering his courage, he touched the side of the mans neck, like he had seen doctors do in some of his cousin Dudley's TV shows. He felt a faint pulse.

"He's alive," he whispered back. 'But for how much longer?' a voice whispered. He was only a fourteen-year-old wizard, and knew nothing of healing. He doubted even Hermione, the brightest witch in Hogwarts, would know how to cure the wounds this man had taken.

A muffled groan was suddenly heard, and the man tried to lift his head. Harry leaned down, trying to get a look at the man's face. Bright brown eyes met his own green ones, and they shared a long, helpless look. The man seemed to try and say something… Harry strained his ears

"… Mother… Father… I'm… sorry…" Harry watched the man's eyes dim, and knew that he was about to die. Desperate to do something for the dying man, he reached out and patted his shoulder. He though the man might have smiled, before his head fell back to the earth with a dull thump.

A sudden burst of pain filled Harry, and his vision went black. The last thing he heard was Hermione gasping.

* * *

><p>As Anders died, the spirit that had sustained his body for so long had left, seeking to return to the Fade. However, it had realized that this realm was no longer strong enough to support it. As it felt itself break apart, it desperately sought a refuge, finding one not far from it previous host. Barely alive, it dove in heedlessly.<p>

_AN:_ Hello. I have a few quick things to say about this story. It will try to follow canon as much as possible with a possessed Harry. In essence, Harry will not go dark, Dumbledore will not become a manipulative jerk bend on domination, Ron will not become evil or join the Death Eaters, and no leather pants will be worn. Enjoy, and please give me some feedback.


	2. Returning to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative. I am in no way profiting from this story.

Chapter 1: Return to Hogwarts

Harry blinked as he returned to consciousness. He groaned slightly, his head still ached from where he probably smashed it against the ground when he fell. What had caused that, anyways? Harry was no stranger to odd magical injuries, and he had fainted when Dementors were nearby, but to just collapse for no reason…

"Harry!" Hermione whispered, shaking him slightly. "Are you alright?" Harry looked around. Ron and Hermione were both crouching next to him, watching him worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry answered, sitting up. "How long was I… out?"

"Just a few seconds, mate." Ron said quietly. "Thirty seconds at most." He stared at Harry. "What happened, Harry?"

"I don't know, Ron." Harry said quietly. "One moment I was watching… him," Harry gestured towards the body. "Next, everything started hurting and I… blacked out." His friends waited, obviously expecting something more. Harry felt a flash of annoyance; he was as clueless as they were.

"So it wasn't anything to do with You-Know-Who?" Ron asked finally. Harry shook his head. The lightning shaped scar he had gotten when Voldemort tired to kill him at age one had not been burning the way it had when he had dreamed of Voldemort a few days ago. No, it had just been one part of his body that had been in agony.

The three looked back at the body, which lay exactly how Harry remembered. The bloodstain had stopped spreading, indicating that there was nothing left in his veins.

"What do we do with him?" Ron asked. Hermione shook her head, looking like she was about to be sick. Harry felt sorrow fill him. Anders had been a good…

Harry's thoughts stopped. How had he known that name? All the man had been able to choke out was a few words, and his name had not been among them. But, looking at the body, Harry knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man's name had been Anders.

Suddenly, before Harry could figure out where his newfound knowledge had come from, a branch snapped in the forest behind them, causing the trio to spin around. They couldn't see anything.

"Oh, what now?" Hermione moaned, pointing her wand shakily at the source of the noise. Harry rose to his feet, trying to see through the darkness.

"Hello?" he called, advancing. There was a moment of silence, as though whoever was standing out there was wondering what to do. Harry suddenly realized that Ron and Hermione's lit wands were making the trio an easy target.

"Turn those off!" he hissed. Both of them looked at him like he was mad. He was about to explain what he meant when the mysterious person made up their mind. A loud, powerful voice shouted out what sounded like an incantation.

_"MORSMORDRE!" _

A sickly green light filled the clearing, almost blinding Harry. He saw, for a brief moment, the shape of a man with wand raised high. Then, the light shot up into the sky, reforming into a massive skull, made of emerald stars, with a serpent sticking out of its mouth like a sick mockery of a tongue. As the shape rose, terrified screams echoed from the surrounding forest.

"What the…" Ron whispered, only to be silenced by Hermione's own muffled scream.

"We have to get out of here! Now!" she gasped, grabbing the boys' arms and dragging them away from where the light had originated.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked, still trying to see the shape that had cast the skull.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned. "It's You-Know-Who's sign!"

"_Voldemort's…_"

Harry, Ron and Hermione had just reached the center of the clearing and Anders' body when wizards started Apperating in around them. Harry realized that each one of them had their wands out and were pointing them at the trio.

"DUCK!" he shouted, grabbing his friends and forcing them to the ground as the first spells started flying from the wizards' wands. He was just in time, he felt the jets of red light ruffle his hair as they soared around the clearing, bouncing off each other, tree trunks, anything they hit.

"STOP!" one of the wizards shouted, lowering his wand. "That's my son!"

Harry had never been happier to see Mr. Weasley as he was at that moment. The man rushed forward, holding out his hand to help the three to their feet.

"Ron, Harry, Hermione, are you alright?" he asked in a worried voice. Harry was about to give an affirmative, but was interrupted.

"Out of the way, Arthur." Harry turned slightly to se Barty Crouch, Head of the Department of International Cooperation, striding across the clearing, rage burning in his eyes. His mustache bristled as he glared at the three. "Which one of you did it?" his voice like ice. "Which one of you cast the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do anything!" Ron said, looking around at the mass of Ministry wizards indignantly. "What did you lot want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie!" Mr. Crouch hissed, pointing his wand squarely at Ron. Harry took an unconscious step closer to his friend. "You were discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," one witch whispered, glancing nervously at the furious wizard. "They're just kids, Barty, none of them could possibly…"

"Were did the mark come from?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Over there," Hermione said, pointing nervously. "Someone over there… shouted a word… an incantation…" Mr. Crouch whirled on her.

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" he said, his eyes popping. Harry realized that this man was on the edge of a breakdown, and found himself wishing for his wand again. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem awfully well informed about all this, missy…" The rest of the Ministry workers weren't listening to his rant, they had all turned to point their wands at the spot Hermione had pointed too.

"We're probably too late," one of the wizards said. "They'll have Disappperated by now."

"I don't know…" another said quietly, glancing around. Harry recognized Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Some of our Stunners went right through there, we may have gotten them!"

"Be careful, Amos!" a few voices warned as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders and walked into the trees. Someone must have moved, because they kicked Anders' (Harry still had no idea where the name had come from) body.

"What's this?" she asked, crouching down and studying the corpse. She glanced up at the trio.

"We… don't know…" Hermione whimpered, not seeming to want to look at the body. "We found him like that. Except… well… he was alive when we found him, but…" The witch nodded in understanding, and Mr. Weasley patted Hermione on the shoulder, whispering some words of comfort. Everyone was distracted moments later by Mr. Diggory's cry of triumph.

"Yes! We got them! It's… but… blimey…"

"Who is it?" Mr. Crouch shouted, sounding disbelieving. Mr. Diggory soon emerged from the trees, carrying a tiny, limp figure. It was Winky the House Elf. Harry recognized her from the Top Box at the Quidditch Cup, she belonged to Mr. Crouch.

Mr. Crouch stood completely still, staring in complete shock as his servant was deposited at his feet. Everyone else was equally silent, watching him nervously as he stared at her lifelessly. Finally, he seemed to shake himself out of it.

"This. Cannot. Be." His voice was empty, cold. With that, he stalked around Mr. Diggory and into the trees.

"No point, Mr. Crouch!" Mr. Diggory called. "No-one else is in there, I checked." The other man ignored him, slipping silently into the forest. "Bit embarrassing." Mr. Diggory continued quietly. "His own house elf… never would have thought it possible… I mean to say."

"Come off it, Amos." Mr. Weasley said quietly. "You can't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"She had a wand." Mr. Diggory said, holding a wand. Everyone gasped in surprise. "Right in her hand. That's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

"It still couldn't have been her." Harry heard himself say, and everyone turned to him. "The voice didn't sound like hers. It was a man's voice, deep." There was a moment of silence that was broken by another pop of an Apperation, and Mr. Bagman joined the scene.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he spun around, looking at his colleagues for answers. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty!"

Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was white, almost ghostlike, but his eyes blazed with a fury Harry had not seen in a long time.

"Where have you been, Barty?" Bagman asked. He was about to continue, but he stumbled over the corpse. "Is this the one?"

"No." Mr. Crouch said stiffly. "Please, do not step backwards, or you will stand on my elf." Bagman spun in place, finally noticing Winky.

"What happened to her? She looks Stunned…" Bagman looked around at the grim faces of the Ministry employees, then up at the Dark Mark. "No… Winky couldn't have done it! She wouldn't know how! She would need a wand!"

"And she had one," Mr. Diggory said, showing it to Bagman. "I found it in her hand. Now, Mr. Crouch, I think it best if we hear what she's got to say for herself." Mr. Crouch didn't seem to hear, but Mr. Diggory continued on as if he had. He pointed his wand at Winky and muttered "_Ennervate!_"

Winky slowly returned to consciousness. Her brown eye opened and she looked around, blinking. None of the witches or wizards made any move to assist her as she slowly pushed herself to a sitting position. She finally saw Mr. Diggory's feet beside her, and slowly raised here yes to stare up into his grim face. Then, fear written on every line of her face, she raised her eyes to the sky, the Dark Mark reflected in her tear-filled eyes.

"Elf!" Mr. Diggory said coldly. "I am Amos Diggory, a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." Winky kept sobbing, rocking back and forward. Harry was reminded of Dobby, the house elf who had tried to save his life two years ago. He felt a sick sense of anger; hadn't anyone listened when he said that Winky _couldn't have done it_? "As you can see, elf," Mr. Diggory continued, heedless of Winky's sobs. "The Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago, and you were discovered right below it. Explain."

"I…I…I is not doing it, sir!" Winky wailed, her ears flopping as she shook her head. "I is not known how, sir!"

"You were also found with a wand in your hand!" Mr. Diggory continued, still glaring at Winky. He held the wand up for emphasis, and Harry recognized it as it caught the light.

"Hey, that's mine! I dropped it!" he called. Everyone turned to him again.

"You dropped it?" Mr. Diggory asked in disbelief. "Is that a confession? You threw it aside after casting the Dark Mark?"

"Listen to yourself, Amos!" Mr. Weasley said angrily. "Is _Harry Potter_ likely to conjure the Dark Mark?" Mr. Diggory apologized, his face going slightly red.

"Besides, I dropped it elsewhere, just after entering the forest." Harry was about to continue and reiterate that it hadn't been Winky's voice, but Mr. Diggory was faster.

"So, you found this wand, elf. And you decided to pick it up and have some fun with it, did you."

"I is not doing magic, sir!" Winky wailed, cringing away from Mr. Diggory. "I is… I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not known how!"

"It's as Harry said!" Hermione said bravely. "Winky's voice is high and squeaky, and the voice that cast the Mark was a human voice." Both Ron and Harry nodded.

"We'll see." Mr. Diggory said, mostly ignoring them. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that." Winky shook her head, her ears flapping again. Mr. Diggory dramatically placed the tip of his want against the tip of Harry's.

"_Prior Incantato!"_ he cried. A massive skull and snake burst from the point where the wands touched. It was only a shadow of the great green one in the sky, made of smoke rather than stars. "_Deletrius_!" The skull disappeared, and a look of savage triumph covered Mr. Diggory's face. "So…"

"I is not doing it!" Winky wailed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

_"You've been caught red-handed, elf!"_ roared Mr. Diggory. _"Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"_

"All that proves is that she had the wand!" Harry shouted. "We've said twice, we'll say it again, _it was a human's voice that cast the Mark!_"

"Listen to Harry, Amos." Mr. Weasley said loudly. "Precious few wizards know how to do that spell, where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," Mr. Crouch said finally, cold fury in his voice "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?" A tense silence filled the clearing.

"Mr. Crouch… that… that isn't what…" Mr. Diggory said desperately.

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to have cast the Mark." Mr. Crouch continued in a deadly voice. "Harry Potter, and myself. I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I hate the Dark Arts and those who practice them?"

"I never suggested you had anything to do with this!" Mr. Diggory said quickly, his face reddening.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" Mr. Crouch roared. "Where else would she have learned this magic most dark?"

"She cold have picked it up anywhere…" Mr. Diggory started.

"Precisely, Amos." Mr. Weasley interjected smoothly. "She could have picked it up anywhere. Winky," he said more gently. "Where did you find Harry's wand?"

"I… I is finding it… there, sir," she said, pointing a shaking finger towards the trees where the Mark had come from.

"You see, Amos?" Mr. Weasley said. "Whoever conjured the Mark must have used Harry's wand, dropped it, then Disapperated. It was a clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here must have simply had the misfortune of coming across the wand moments later and picking it up."

"But then, she must have been only feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Poor Winky started to tremble even harder. She looked around desperately, her eyes resting on Mr. Crouch for a moment longer. "I is seeing no one, sir…"

"Amos." Mr. Crouch snapped. "I am fully aware that, under normal circumstances, you would wish to take Winky and question her more thoroughly. However, I ask that you allow me to deal with this." Mr. Diggory didn't look happy, but it was clear that Mr. Crouch far outranked him, and that he had to obey. "Rest assured, Amos, she will be punished."

"M-m-master?" Winky asked, staring in horror at Mr. Crouch, who glared back mercilessly.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible." His voice, if anything, had grown colder. "I ordered that she remain in the tent until I returned from dealing with the trouble. She disobeyed me. There is only one way to resolve this, this means clothes."

"NO!" Winky wailed, throwing herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No master, please! Not clothes!" The only way to free a house elf was to give them prober clothes. Harry had tricked Mr. Malfoy, Dobby's former master, to do just that. However, while Dobby had been ecstatic at his freedom, Winky was crying like it was the worst thing in the world.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione called, her voice strengthening with her indignation. "Your elf is scare of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," Mr. Crouch said, shaking Winky off from his leg with a gesture of utter contempt. He turned to look at Hermione. "I have no need for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and her master's reputation."

A nasty silence filled the clearing, broken only by Winky's continued sobs. Finally, one of the other Ministry officials spoke up. "What do we do with him?" she asked, gesturing towards the body in the center of the clearing.

"Describe exactly what happened, you three." Mr. Weasley said gently. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, not seeming to want to speak.

"We came into the clearing, over there." Harry said, pointing. "And we saw the body. I came over to see what had happened. He was alive when I got to him, but his wounds were… severe. He was able to choke out a few words before… dying." Harry briefly wondered whether he should mention his momentary collapse, but decided that it was probably not a good idea. Mr. Crouch might get ideas.

"What did he say?" The witch asked. "His name, what happened to him…?"

"No, just 'Mother, Father, I'm sorry.' That's all he said. I'm not sure he even realized I was there." The Ministry witch sighed.

"I'm in Magical Law Enforcement, I'll deal with this." She walked over and crouched down next to the body.

"Well," Mr. Weasley said. "If there's nothing else, I'll be taking my lot back to the camp. Amos, if Harry could have his wand back?" Mr. Diggory nodded absentmindedly and handed Harry his wand. Hermione didn't move, she was still staring at Winky. Ron leaned over and gave her arm a tug, and after a half-hearted glare, she followed the others out of the clearing.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" she asked.

"I don't know, Hermione." Mr. Weasley said sadly.

"It was horrible how they were treating her!" Hermione hissed furiously. "Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time… and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to punish her. He doesn't care about her, how scared she must have been! It was like she wasn't human!"

"Well, she's not." Ron said tactlessly.

"That doesn't mean they had the right to treat her like that." Harry said quietly as Hermione opened her mouth to tear into Ron.

"I agree with you two." Mr. Weasley said quietly. "But this is not the time or place to discuss elf rights. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark." Ron answered. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain back at the tent." Said Mr. Weasley tensely. At that moment, they reached the edge of the forest, and were met by a mass of frightened witches and wizards.

"What's going on?"

"Who conjured it?"

"It's not… _Him_… is it?"

"Of course it's not Him!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now, please excuse me, I want to get to bed." He led the way through the crowd, a few of whom muttered at the sight of Harry. Still, no one else had anything to ask, and they reached the tents without incident. Charlie Weasley poked his head out of the tent.

"Dad!" he called. "What's going on? Fred, George, and Ginny mad it back, but we haven't seen…"

"Don't worry, I found them." Mr. Weasley called back, entering the tent. The rest of the family was sitting around the living-room table. Bill, Charlie, and Percy were sporting small wounds. Fred, George, and Ginny were all unhurt, but scared.

"Did you get them, Dad?" Bill asked sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," Mr. Weasley said. "All we found was Barty Crouch's elf with Harry's wand, but we don't know who actually conjured the Mark."

"_What_?" everyone asked at once.

"Harry's wand?" Fred and George said together.

"Mr. Crouch's elf?" Percy gasped, horrified.

Mr. Weasley and the trio spend the next few minutes explaining what had happened. By some unspoken agreement, they didn't mention the dead body, it wasn't strictly related.

"Well, Mr. Crouch was quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" Percy spluttered indignantly. "She was embarrassing him in front of the entire Ministry… How would it have looked if she'd been dragged before the Department for the Regulation and Control…"

"She didn't do anything wrong!" Hermione snapped, glaring at Percy. Everyone was a bit taken aback by that, Hermione generally got on well with Percy.

"A wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand." Percy shot back.

"_In his position_?" Harry asked coolly. "So common decency must be discarded as one rises in rank?" He didn't know why he was so angry about Winky's treatment. He supposed it was because she reminded him of Dobby.

"And she wasn't _running amok_!" Hermione added. "She just happened to pick it up!"

"Look, can someone just explain why the skull this is so bad?" Ron asked impatiently. "I mean, it wasn't hurting anyone. Why was everyone so scared?"

"It was You-Know-Who's sign, Ron." Hermione answered. "Of course people are going to be scared."

"And it hasn't been seen since his fall thirteen years ago." Mr. Weasley added. "Seeing it again, people are thinking He might have returned. Of course people panicked."

"It's still only a shape in the sky." Ron said, frowning.

"You-Know-Who's followers only sent the Dark Mark up when they killed." Mr. Weasley said quietly. "The terror it inspired; imagine returning home and seeing that floating over your home, and knowing what you'll find within. It's the worst kind of fear, and people lived with that for years."

"Well, it certainly didn't help us tonight." Bill said, glancing at his arm, which had a nasty cut in it. "The Death Eaters all Disapparated the second they saw it, didn't give us a chance to catch any of them. At least the Roberses are alright."

"What's a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves." Charlie said grimly. "I'm guessing we saw the remnants of them tonight, the ones that managed to avoid Azkaban."

"But why would Voldemort's supporters…" Harry started. Everyone flinched, the Wizarding World still feared Voldemort's name, though Harry wished they would be like Professor Dumbledore and just use it, a name couldn't hurt them. "… levitating Muggles? What's the point?"

"The point?" Mr. Weasley asked with a hollow laugh. "This is their sick idea of fun, Harry. Half the Muggle killings during the reign of terror was done for fun. This lot probably had a few drinks together and couldn't resist showing off that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them." His voice dripped with disgust.

"Wait," Ron asked, confused. "If they were the Death Eaters, why did they run away when they saw the Dark Mark? They would be happy, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," Bill said. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to avoid prison. They denied You-Know-Who. If he ever came back, he would be very upset with them. They're probably even more afraid of his return than the rest of us."

"So whose side was the person who conjured the Dark Mark on?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "But the only people who ever knew how to conjure it were the Death Eaters. Which means that the person who conjured it was likely a Death Eater at one point, even if they aren't any more."

Mr. Weasley sent them to bed, promising to try and get an early Portkey out. Harry knew he should be exhausted at this point, but his nervousness seemed to fill him with energy. Three days ago, his scar had woken him from a dream about Voldemort's rising power, and now, his mark had been seen in the sky for the first time since he had fallen after failing to kill Harry himself. What did all this mean?

And that body; Anders. Harry felt, deep down, that his finding Anders was going to be vitally important, but he couldn't figure out how. He still had no clue how he had even come up with the name.

A flash of pain flowed through him, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut. It passed after a moment, and he lay back, sighing. Something had changed, and he couldn't figure out what, but it scared him.

Had he been looking in the mirror at the moment of the pain, he would have seen his eyes blaze with blue fire while more traced it's way along his lighting scar.

* * *

><p>The Portkeys were clogged with witches and wizards desperate to get away from the campsite, but Mr. Weasley got them away fairly early. They arrived on the hill overlooking Ottery St. Catchpole before the sun had even risen. They quickly walked back to the Burrow, tired and hungry, but eager to be back.<p>

"Oh, thank goodness!" a voice called as they rounded the last bend in the road. It was Mrs. Weasley, and she looked so pale. She ran towards them, holding what looked like a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. "I've been so worried! Arthur…"

"We're alright, all of us." Mr. Weasley said gently as his wife threw her arms around his neck, dropping the paper. Bill, who was nearest, picked it up, and Harry saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, as well as the picture of the Dark Mark hovering over the forest.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and gazing around at the rest of them. "Oh boys…" She seized Fred and George, pulling them into such a fierce hug that their heads banged together.

"OW! Mum… you're strangling us!" they gasped.

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, crying. "It's all I've been thinking! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred… George…"

"Molly, calm down, we're all fine. No one's hurt." Mr. Weasley said soothingly, gently pulling her off the twins and leading her back towards the Burrow, followed by the rest of the family. They gathered in the kitchen, and as Hermione made Mrs. Weasley a cup of strong tea, Mr. Weasley opened the paper and scanned the story.

"I knew it," he muttered, shaking his head. "_Ministry blunders…culprits not apprehended… lax security… Dark wizards running unchecked… national disgrace…_ Standard fare for Rita Skeeter."

"That woman has got it in for the Ministry." Percy said furiously, reading over his father's shoulder. "Last week she was saying we're wasting time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires. I mean, it's specifically stared in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans…"

"Do us a favor, Perce, and shut up." Bill said tiredly.

"I'm mentioned?" Mr. Weasley said suddenly, reading the bottom of the article more closely.

"Where?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking up. "If I'd seen you, I would have known you were alright!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen:_ If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the forest's edge were hoping for comfort from the Ministry, the were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the incident and alleged that no one had been hurt, but refused to give more information. However, this reporter, as well as several eyewitnesses, saw at least one body being removed an hour later. Ministry employees refused to comment on the deceased_." He sighed, shaking his head. "That body wasn't even related, he was found dead before the Mark even appeared. And that line about 'at least one body'… as far as I know that _was_ the only body." He sighed again. "I have to go into the office. This is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll go too, Father." Percy said quickly. "Mr. Crouch will need all the help he can get, and I can give him my cauldron bottom report."

"But Arthur." Mrs. Weasley said. "You're on holiday! This has nothing to do with your department. Do they really need you?"

"I've got to go, Molly. Skeeter's dragged me into this mess, I have to be on call to clarify."

"Mrs. Weasley, has Hedwig come with anything." Harry asked as Mr. Weasley and Percy left the room to get formal robes on.

"Hedwig, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, obviously distracted. "No, there hasn't been any mail."

Ron and Hermione glanced curiously at Harry, and he gave them a significant look. The three soon found a way to excuse themselves and retreated to Ron's attic bedroom.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked as soon as the door closed.

"There's something I haven't told you." Harry said quietly. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting."

When it had happened, Harry had debated whether he should send letters to his friends about it, but had decided that they would just be worried. It seemed that he had a good grasp as to their reactions; Hermione gasped and started making suggestions, everything from reference books to a visit to Professor Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Ron just looked nervous.

"But, he couldn't have been _there_, could he? On Privet Drive?"

"No, he wasn't there." Harry said. "But I was dreaming about him. Him and Peter, you know, Wormtail. They were plotting to kill… someone." He had almost said "me," but had noticed how scared his friends looked already and hadn't wanted to make them even more so.

"It was only a dream, right?" Ron said hopefully. "Just a nightmare."

"I don't think so." Harry said, turning to look out the window. "I mean, my scar hurts, then three days later, the Death Eaters are on the march and Voldemort's sign is seen in the sky again."

"Don't say his name." Ron hissed. Harry ignored him, still musing.

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said last year." Professor Trelawney was the Divination teacher at Hogwarts, and thought Harry often saw her as an annoying fraud, during his exam last year she had gone into a trance, claiming that a servant of Lord Voldemort would escape that night, and that Voldemort would rise again. That night, Peter Pettigrew, the one who betrayed Harry's parents to Voldemort, had fled from his hiding spot right under Harry's nose and apparently succeeded in returning to his master.

Hermione didn't look impressed. "Oh, Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says." Harry couldn't help but smile slightly. Hermione had a great love of school and learning, but she had actually walked out on Trelawney after the professor had predicted Harry's death one too many times.

"You weren't there, Hermione," he responded. "You didn't hear her. I think she was actually predicting something that time. She went into a real trance, said that the Dark Lord would rise again, greater and more terrible than ever before, and he would do it with the help of his servant who escaped that night. Wormtail escaped. Even Professor Dumbledore thinks that was a real prediction." There was a tense silence for a moment, before Hermione spoke.

"Why were you asking about Hedwig?"

"I told Sirius about my scar." Harry said, shrugging. "I'm waiting for an answer." Sirius was Harry's godfather, though he had only learned about that recently. Sirius had been framed by Wormtail as the one who betrayed Harry's family, and had been sent to Azkaban for years. When he learned that Wormtail was in a position to threaten Harry, however, he had marshaled his strength and escaped Azkaban. He was now on the run with the hippogriff Buckbeak, thought he remained in contact with Harry.

"Good thinking!" Ron said, the worry fading from his face. "Sirius will know what to do."

"I was hoping that he would get back to me soon." Harry said, still staring out the window at the rising sun.

"We don't know where he is." Hermione said calmly. "He could be in Africa, Hedwig wouldn't be able to make that trip in a few days." Harry nodded, that made sense, but it didn't mean he couldn't be worried.

"Hey, Harry, let's go have a Quidditch game." Ron said. "Three on three, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George will play. You can try out that Wronski Feint."

"Ron" Hermione said severely, obviously thinking that he wasn't being very sensitive. "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now, he's tired, and tired. We need to go to bed…"

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch." Harry said suddenly. He needed to do something, to get his mind off what was going on. Hermione didn't seem to like that, and she stalked off, muttering something about boys.

* * *

><p>The last week of holidays passed quickly. Mr. Weasley and Percy were not home much, and Harry heard Percy complaining about how people were sending Howlers about the security at the Quidditch Cup. Mr. Weasley had brought more bad news; apparently the reporter Rita Skeeter had discovered the Ministry witch, Bertha Jorkins that had disappeared several weeks ago. Harry had had his own problems, several times he had been woken from disturbing dream by a flash of pain, and he couldn't figure out what was causing it. He had considered telling someone about it, but had not wanted to worry anyone over something fairly mild.<p>

The night before they were set to return to Hogwarts, Harry and Ron were up in the room they shared, making sure that everything was ready. Harry had been packing his cauldron when he heard Ron make a noise of disgust.

"What is this supposed to be?" he gasped. Harry turned to see him holding what looked like a long, maroon dress. It even had lace at the collar and cuffs. Mrs. Weasley chose that moment to bring in the freshly laundered Hogwarts robes.

"Mum, I think you accidently gave me Ginny's new dress." Ron said, showing it to her. Mrs. Weasley shook her head.

"No, that's for you. It say's on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year, for formal occasions."

_"What!" _Ron said, stunned. "I'm not wearing these!"

"Everyone wears them, Ron!" Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "Harry's got some too, show him."

Harry was a bit nervous as to what he would find, but was relived to see a set of bottle green, distinctly lace-free robes that looked almost identical to his school ones.

"Those ones are alright!" Ron said angrily, staring at them. "Why do these ones look like a dress?"

"Because… well, yours were secondhand, there wasn't a lot of choice!" Mrs. Weasley said, flushing. Harry looked down. The Weasleys, while being the kindest people he had ever met, were very poor. He would have gladly split his money with them, but knew they would never take it.

"I'm never wearing them!" Ron declared.

"Well, you can either wear them, or go naked. It's your decision, Ronald. And Harry, if he does go naked, be sure to get a picture." Mrs. Weasley snapped before leaving.

The next day was very rainy, and there was a gloom in the air. As Harry and Ron went down the stairs, Mrs. Weasley called for Mr. Weasley, saying there was an urgent message from the Ministry. Harry flattened himself against the wall as Mr. Weasley came charging past. As he entered the kitchen, he saw Mr. Weasley crouching in front of the fire, talking to a head that was floating in the fire. It took Harry a moment to convince himself that he wasn't dreaming.

"Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting," Mr. Diggory was saying. "They went and called the please-men. Arthur, you need to get over here." Mrs. Weasley rushed over and handed her husband a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill. "It's a stroke of luck I even heard about it," Mr. Diggory continued. "I happened to come into the office early and notice the Improper Use of Magic lot setting off. We have to hurry."

"What does Mad-Eye say?" asked Mr. Weasley. Mr. Diggory rolled his eyes.

"Says an intruder tied to sneak in, but was ambushed by the dustbins. Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere. Apparently one was still going when the please-men turned up." Mr. Weasley groaned, but kept writing.

"And this intruder…"

"You know Mad-Eye, there's more likely to be a very shell-shocked cat walking around with potato peelings in it's fur. We need to get him off on something minor, what with his new job and all. What would exploding dustbins be worth in your department?"

"Might be a caution." Mr. Weasley said, still writing. "Did he use his wand?"

"Probably jumped up and started jinxing everything he could reach out of his window." Mr. Diggory said. "They'll have a job proving it, though, there weren't any casualties."

"Alright, I'm off." Mr. Weasley said, rushing out of the kitchen to get his robes on strait. Mr. Diggory turned to Mrs. Weasley.

"Sorry about this, Molly." His voice was calmer. "Arthur's the only one who can help Mad-Eye now. Why did he have to chose tonight?"

"It's alright, Amos." Mrs. Weasley said. "Do you want some toast before you go?"

"If it's not to much trouble." Mrs. Weasley quickly grabbed some fire tongs to transfer the toast to Mr. Diggory's mouth. He left with a muffled thanks. Mr. Weasley returned not long after, his robes on strait and combing his hair.

"You all have a good term," he said to Harry, Ron, and the twins. "You'll be all right taking the kids to King's Cross, right Molly."

"Of course I will," she said. "You take care of Mad-Eye." Nodding, Mr. Weasley left, Disapparating a moment later.

"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked as he and Charlie entered the kitchen.

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night." Mrs. Weasley said.

"Isn't he that nutter…" Fred asked.

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs. Weasley sternly.

"Yeah, well Dad collects plugs, doesn't he? Birds of a father and all."

"Who is Mad-Eye?" Harry asked.

"He's a retired Auror. Dark Wizard catcher." Charlie explained. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He's become paranoid, he made a lot of enemies."

Not long afterwards, Bill, Charlie, Mrs. Weasley, and the Hogwarts students were down in the village, trying to cram all their luggage into several Muggle taxies. The poor drivers were obviously not used to transporting this many people and trunks, but after several close calls, they made it to King's Cross. They were able to slip carefully through the false wall that led to Platform 9 ¾ s, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express was waiting for them.

"I might get to see you sooner than you think." Charlie was saying to Ginny as Harry stepped back out from the compartment he, Ron, and Hermione had chosen.

"Why?" Fred asked, but Charlie just smiled mysteriously.

"Percy wouldn't like it if he knew I'd even mentioned it," he said. "It's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah." Bill said, gazing at the train. "I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year."

"Why?" George asked.

"You'll see." Bill and Charlie said together, smirking. The whistle blew before any more questions could be asked. After a few more mysterious comments from the adults, the train set off.

"What's going on!" George yelled one last time, but he only got more smiles and waves.

"Bagman wanted to tell us." Ron said quietly. "Back at the Cup, but my own mother…"

"Shh!" Hermione hissed, pointing towards the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron didn't have to listen long to hear the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy drifting through their door.

"… Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, much better than Dumbledore, the Mudblood lover." Harry felt a flash of rage, Mudblood was one of the worst insults in the Wizarding world, a derogatory term for someone who was magical but had Muggle parents, like Hermione and his mother. "Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. I sometimes wish I had gone, Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts, they actually learn them, rather than the defense rubbish we do..." Hermione chose that moment to close the door.

"I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to deal with him," she muttered, sitting back down.

"So Durmstrang is another wizarding school?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Hermione said stiffly. "It's got a horrible reputation. According to _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've hear of it." Ron said vaguely. "It's someplace really cold, right?"

"Yes, but no-one knows exactly where. It's hidden."

"How are you going to hide a place like that, it has to be about the size of Hogwarts?" Ron scoffed. Hermione raised an eyebrow delicately.

"But Hogwarts is hidden, Ron," she said calmly. "It looks like an old ruin to Muggles. Everyone who's read _Hogwarts a History_ knows that."

"So just you then." Ron said. Harry smiled slightly; he and Ron had never needed to read that book because Hermione knew it by heart.

The rain thickened as the train headed farther north, but the compartments were warm. Several friends looked in on them during the trip. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas spent some time talking about the Cup, with Neville listening jealously.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing!"

"It was." Ron said. "Here, look at this!" He showed Neville the miniature Victor Krum he had bought, even though he supported Ireland. "We saw him up close, too. We were in the Top Box."

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Draco Malfoy had come over to have his yearly chat. His bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, flanked him as always.

"I don't remember asking you to join us." Harry said coldly.

Malfoy ignored him. "What is _that_, Weasel Bee?" He grabbed Ron's dress robes from Pigwidgeon's cage, where they had been muffling the noise. "Look at this!" he crowed, showing the robes to Crabbe and Goyle, who laughed stupidly.

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" Ron snarled, blushing as he ripped the robes out of Malfoy's grip.

"So, going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring some measure of honor to your family name? There's money involved, too."

"What are you talking about?" Ron hissed, glaring daggers at Malfoy.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated slowly, as if he was talking to a child. "I know you will, Potter. Never lose a chance to show off."

"Either explain what you're talking about, Malfoy, or leave." Hermione said coldly, looking up from her book. Malfoy started grinning.

"Don't tell me you don't _know_? You've got a father and brother in the Ministry and you don't _know_? Merlin! My father told me weeks ago, he heard it from Cornelius Fudge, the Minister. But then, Father's always been associated with the top people… yes, they probably don't discuss anything important in front of your father…"

"Leave." Harry said simply, rising to his feet. Hermione said something about not rising, but Harry ignored her. A cold rage was flowing through his veins as he glared at Malfoy.

"Who's going to make me, Potter?" Malfoy said quietly, and Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles. Harry simply took a small step forward, letting them know that he wasn't going to back down this time.

A part of his rage must have shown on his face, because Malfoy stepped back, blinking. "Come on," he muttered to his minions before beating a hasty retreat. Harry slid the door shut firmly.

"Harry, what did you do?" Hermione asked, studying him as he sat down. Harry shrugged.

"I don't care." Ron hissed, grabbing a Cauldron Cake and crushing it in his fist. "_Father always associates wit the top people_… Dad could've got a promotion any time… likes it where he is…"

"We know, Ron." Hermione said soothingly. "Don't let him get to you." Ron muttered something, ignoring her. Hermione glanced at Harry again before trying to calm Ron down.

The rest of the trip passed in silence. As they reached the station at Hogsmeade, the rain was as thick as ever. They ran, with their heads covered, towards where the carriages were.

"What the…" Ron asked, coming to a momentary halt. The carriages were no longer horseless, instead being pulled by several large, horse-like creatures. Harry didn't really have time to ponder this, as the rain was soaking them. The hurriedly got onto one of the carriages, staring at the odd shape out the front window.

"What are those things?" Harry asked. Neither of his friends knew, though Hermione said that she would look it up as soon as she had some time in the library. Harry looked out the window, waiting for the castle he loved to appear through the rain. And there it was, gentle light flowing from the various window. Harry couldn't help but smile. After everything, he was home again.

They didn't look up again until they finally reached the massive entrance hall.

"I hope the poor first years are doing alright." Hermione said worriedly. The first years at Hogwarts traditionally crossed the lake with Hagrid, the gamekeeper.

"If that keeps up the lake's going to overflow!" Ron said, shaking the water out of his hair. "I'm soak… ARRGH!"

A water balloon had just dropped from the sky directly onto Ron's head, causing him to stager into Harry. He looked up just in time to dodge the one aimed at him, though his shoes and socks were soaked again. Peeves the Poltergeist laughed, juggling several more water balloons as people scampered to get to safety.

"PEEVES!" Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and head of Gryffindor House, sprinted out of the Great Hall. Her dramatic entrance was somewhat ruined by her skidding on the wet floor and having to grab Hermione for support. "Sorry, Miss Granger."

"It's all right, Professor." Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down her this instant!" Professor McGonagall called, glaring up at the poltergeist.

"Not doing nothing!" Peeves laughed, tossing another water balloon. "Already wet, aren't they?" He cackled some more.

"I will call the headmaster!" Professor McGonagall shouted. "I'm warning you!" Peeves stuck his tongue out and threw the last of his water balloons into the air before flying away.

Professor McGonagall quickly ushered the students into the Great Hall, which was thankfully warmer. Ron was still muttering furiously about Peeves.

"Hiya Harry!" an exited voice called as the trio sat down next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Harry looked up to see Colin Creevey, the third year who though Harry was a hero.

"Hello, Colin." Harry said. He had learned to live with the little guy's excited greetings.

"Guess what, Harry! My brother Dennis is starting! Isn't that great?" Harry nodded patiently. "I hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, k?"

"Er… yeah, I will." Harry said. "Siblings often go to the same house, right?" he asked Nearly Headless Nick.

"Not necessarily." Hermione responded immediate. "Parvati Patil's twin went to Ravenclaw." Harry nodded, before turning to look at the Head Table.

Professor McGonagall was probably still dealing with the Great Hall and the first years. He saw Professor Snape, the potions master, sitting silently. Professor Dumbledore was in his seat at the center of the table, and was staring pensively at the enchanted ceiling that showed the weather outside. Harry's eyes slowly traced over his other professors, looking for the new face that would be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Rumor had it that that position was cursed, seeing as no professor had lasted more than a year in ages. Of the three Harry had seen, one had been incompetent, one had been a traitor, and the third had been his father's old friend Remus Lupin, who had been wonderful until Snape forced him to resign by exposing him as a werewolf.

"Oh, hurry up!" Ron muttered. "I'm hungry!" The words had barely left his mouth that the door opened, and Professor McGonagall led a line of first years down the center aisle to the front of the Hall. They were all soaking, but one, who was likely Dennis Creevey, he looked like his brother, was wearing Hagrid's massive overcoat, which was larger than he was. He looked very excited, and mouthed "I fell in!" to Colin, confirming Harry's suspicions.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had placed an old, worn hat on a three legged stool. After a moment, the Sorting Hat opened its mouth and began to sing.

"_A thousand years or more ago. When I was newly sewn, There lived four wizards of renown, Whose names are still well known: Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, Shrewd Slytherin, from fen. They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, They hatched a daring plan To educate young sorcerers . Thus Hogwarts School began. Now each of these four founders. Formed their own house, for each did value different virtues. In the ones they had to teach. By Gryffindor, the bravest were, prized far beyond the rest; for Ravenclaw, the cleverest would always be the best; for Hufflepuff, hard workers were most worthy of admission; and power-hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition. While still alive they did divide Their favorites from the throng. Yet how to pick the worthy ones when they were dead and gone? Twas Gryffindor who found the way. He whipped me off his head The founders put some brains in me so I could choose instead! Now slip me snug about your ears, I've never yet been wrong! I'll have a look inside your mind and tell where you belong!"_

The Hall filled with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not what it sang when it Sorted us!" Harry said.

"Sings a different one every year." Ron responded. "Must be a boring life as a hat. Bet it spends the whole year thinking up the next one."

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had started calling names, and the first years were sitting under the Hat. Some were only there for seconds, while some took up to a minute. Eventually, Dennis Creevey was called up and sent to Gryffindor with his brother.

"Colin I fell in!" he said happily. "It was brilliant, and then something grabbed me and pushed me back into the boat!"

"Must have been the giant squid!" Colin said excitedly.

"Wow!" Dennis said. If it had been Harry, he would have been terrified. He sometimes wondered how Colin had become so hyper, and now he realized that it must be a family trait.

"Look over there, Dennis, the boy in the glasses with black hair! Guess who he is!" Harry sighed as Colin pointed him out.

'And now there are two. Joy of joys,' a small voice muttered in the back of his head.

Finally, after several complaints from Ron that it was taking too long, the Sorting ended and Professor Dumbledore rose majestically to his feet. His long white beard shone as he opened his arms to the students.

"I have only two words for you!" he called in a deep voice. "_Tuck in_!"

"Here, here!" Ron said as the golden platters before them filled with food. He immediately started loading all his favorites onto a plate, followed by Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the Hall.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight." Nick said. "There was trouble in the kitchen earlier."

"Why, what happened." Harry asked.

"Peeves, of course." Nick said, shaking his head. "The usual argument, wanted to come to the feast. Quite out of the question, you know how he is. The Fat Friar was all for giving him a chance, but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down." The Fat Friar was the Huffelpuff ghost, and was a kind and trusting soul. The Bloody Baron, however, was cold and silent, haunting the Slytherin house.

"We thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something." Ron muttered darkly. "What did he do in the kitchens?"

"The usual." Nick said, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem, pots and pans everywhere, soup all over the floor. Scared the house-elves out of their wits…"

Hermione knocked over her goblet with a clang, staining the tablecloth with pumpkin juice. She was too shocked to notice.

"There are house-elves _here_?" she gasped, staring at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at _Hogwarts_?"

"Certainly." Nick said, looking surprised at her reaction. "Over a hundred. Largest number in any dwelling in Britain. They hardly ever leave the kitchen during the day, which is why you don't see them."

"But they get _paid_?" Hermione asked. "They get _holidays_, don't they? And… and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nick laughed at that, so much that his ruff slipped and his head swung on the inch of flesh that gave him his name.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he chortled, pushing his head back onto his shoulders. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Disgusted, Hermione shoved her hardly touched food away from her. "Slave labor," she muttered. "That's what made this dinner. _Slave labor_." And she refused to eat another bite, no matter how much Ron tried to tempt her. A short time later, after the desert was finished, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"Now!" he called, smiling. "Now that we are all fed and watered," Hermione snorted at that. "I have some announcements to make. First, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has been extended, and the full list of four hundred and thirty-seven items can be found in Mr. Filch's office, as is the list of places that are forbidden, such as the forest." He paused for a moment. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year." Harry gasped. No Quidditch? He loved the sport!

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the rest of the year. This event will take up much of the teachers' time and energy, but I am sure that you will all enjoy it immensely. It is to my great pleasure that I announce that…"

At that moment, the massive doors of the Great Hall opened. A man slowly walked in, shrouded in a black cloak. He pulled down his hood, exposing his face. It was mangled, with a chunk of the nose missing. As he walked up to the High Table, a clunk was heard every other step. But it was his eyes that drew everyone's attention. One looked like a normal eye, but the other was a large, round thing that was bright blue. It was also spinning independently of the rest of the man, seeming to study the entire Hall at once. There were several mutters as the man reached Dumbledore, who shook his hand and gestured him to the empty seat at the table.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said lightly. "Professor Moody!" No one applauded; everyone was still too shocked at his sudden arrival.

"Would that be Mad-Eye Moody?" Harry asked Ron quietly. "The one your father helped?"

"Must be." Ron said in an awed voice.

"What happened to his face?" Hermione gasped, looking slightly sick. Harry imagined that, if what Charlie had said about this man was true, he must have spent a lot of time in battle, so it was only natural that he had picked up scars.

"As I was saying." Dumbledore called, recapturing everyone's attention. "Hogwarts shall be hosting a very exciting event in the coming months. An event that has not been held in over a century. It is my pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" Fred Weasley called out, heard even over the outbreak of cheers and mutters among the students.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley!" Dumbledore called, smiling. "Though, now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…" Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Perhaps another time… Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament… Some of you will probably know all this, so you will forgive me for explaining it for those who don't." He smiled around the Hall again, waiting for the muttering to die a bit. "The Tournament was started almost seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, the three largest European schools of magic. A champion is chosen from each school to complete three magical tasks. However, the tournament was canceled after the death toll mounted too high…"

"Death toll?" Hermione squeaked, but her anxiety did not seem to reach the rest of the students, who were whispering excitedly. Harry understood her nervousness, but wanted to hear more before coming to any conclusions.

"There have been several attempts to restart the tournament, but none have succeeded. However, it his been decided that another attempt is in order. Representatives from all the schools and their respective governments have been working all summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find themselves in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their list of contenders in October, so I trust that you will extend every courtesy to our guests. The selection of the champions will take place on Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons prize money." Mutters broke out again, and Dumbledore waited a moment for them to clear.

"Eager though I know all of you are," he called. "The heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders as a safety measure. Only those who are over the age of majority, that is to say, seventeen or older, can compete." There were several hisses at that, including the Weasley twins, who looked furious. "I will personally be ensuring that no-one underage can attempt to hoodwink our impartial judge, so I beg you not to waste your time trying." He smiled again. "But now it is late, and you have lessons tomorrow! To bed with you all!"

"They can't do this!" Fred muttered as he, George, and the trio left the hall together. "We'll be seventeen in April! Why can't we have a shot?"

"I'm entering." George declared. "The champion'll get to do all sorts of stuff, and a _thousand Galleons_!"

"Who do you think this impartial judge will be?" Harry asked. The twins shrugged.

"Dunno, but it's them we'll have to fool. Aging Potion, you think?"

Harry considered this development as he continued up towards the Gryffindor common room. On the one hand, it would be pretty cool to win. 'However,' he mused as he and Ron paused to help Neville out of one of the trick stairs. 'The winning would be the trouble, wouldn't it?'

In the end, he decided as he settled down to sleep, it was a nice dream he could have, but it wasn't likely to happen.

_AN:_ Things aren't going to change much for a while; Justice is still integrating himself into Harry's mind. Some of the passages are taken directly from the book, but many are subtly changed to save time, so don't think too hard about slightly different wordings. It will be fairly obvious when I'm changing something because of Justice. Also, I'm afraid you cannot expect such quick updates in the future, I had a lot of spare time and was on a roll. Feedback would be appreciated.


	3. Changes

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative than I am. I am in no way profiting from this story.

Reviewer Response:

Maldai: This is taking place after Dragon Age 2, so at the beginning he's fully Vengeance. Other than that, all I can say is you'll see. I will admit that Justice won't start speaking for a while. Thank you for the kind words of support.

Murdock1991: Thanks; your support means a lot to me as well.

Teresa Bells: Well, there aren't any Templars, that's a plus. : ) Glad you like it.

david9999: Thank you! Seeing as I'm having finals soon, my week will probably be a pain, but the thought is appreciated.

Chapter 2: Changes

Shapes swirled around Harry, too fast to be seen. He tried to concentrate, tried to bring them into focus, but they eluded all his attempts to understand. The voices, however, were all too clear. Screams of pain, curses, yells, and more battered his ears.

"_Get away from me, demon_!" A young woman, almost a child, cried in terror.

"_You're a murderer_!" called a man, his voice tinged with anger and disappointment.

"_You harbor a viper in your midst_." This voice was filled with contempt.

Harry jerked awake, gasping. That dream had been worse than the others, which had just been confusing sensations ended by flashes of pain. This was the first time he had ever heard voices.

He pushed the curtains of his four-poster bed open slightly, squinting out the window. The storm had blown off and the sun seemed to be rising, so there was no point in trying to get back to sleep. Groaning, he grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and got up, careful no to wake the other four boys who shared the dormitory. He wondered briefly how he had ever slept through the racket Ron's snores were making as he got dressed. He wandered down to the common room, sitting in one of the squishy armchairs and gazing into the embers of the fireplace.

He still couldn't understand where these strange pains and dreams were coming from, but the only thing he could think of was the body of Anders; he hadn't faced any of this before finding that. But even if that was true, how had it happened? Harry wondered again whether he should see someone about it. No, he decided, best just to wait it out. Whatever it was wasn't affecting his ability to function, and he'd certainly had worse before.

The rest of the House started to rise within an hour, and Harry waited patiently for Ron and Hermione to arrive. Hermione arrived first, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Nightmares," he said simply. She looked like she was about to press for details, but was interrupted by Ron's arrival. The three set off to breakfast. Harry could still feel Hermione's eyes on him as they walked, but he ignored her. As they sat down to eat, they received their class schedules.

"Today's not bad… outside all morning," Ron said. "Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures… damn, still with the Slytherins…"

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down the list. Divination was the second worst subject he was taking, after Potions, because of Professor Trelawney's obsession with predicting his death.

"You should have given it up, like me." Hermione said briskly, buttering a piece of toast. "Then you'd be doing something worthwhile, like Arithmancy."

"I see you're eating again." Ron said, watching Hermione with a slightly smug expression.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights." Hermione said haughtily.

"Yeah… and you were hungry." Ron said, grinning.

Harry ignored the brewing squabble between his friends and looked up as the post owls started soaring into the Hall, seeking out the people they were to deliver their packages to. He noticed Neville receiving something that he had left at home, while Malfoy got his normal batch of sweets from home. However, there was no sign of Hedwig. Harry was beginning to become worried that something had happened to his snowy owl and she had never reached Sirius at all.

These dark thoughts haunted Harry all the way across the muddy grounds to the greenhouses. They were driven from his mind, however, at the sight of the hideous plants that Professor Sprout said that they were going to be working with that day. They were thick, black, and oozing from the swellings all over them. Their smell was almost as repulsive as their appearance.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout said, pretending not to notice the disgusted looks on almost everyone's faces. "We need to collect the pus…"

"The _what?_" Seamus Finnigan said, revolted.

"The pus, Mr. Finnigan, the pus." Professor Sprout said firmly. "Now, it's extremely valuable, so don't spill it. You will collect the pus in these bottles. Wear your dragon hide gloves, undiluted bubotuber pus can do strange things to skin."

Harry found squeezing the bubotubers to be both disgusting and strangely satisfying. Each swell that he popped contained a large amount of yellow-green liquid that smelled like petrol. All around the greenhouse his classmates were gingerly catching the pus in the bottles, and by the end of the class they had collected several pints.

"This should keep Madam Pomfrey happy." Professor Sprout said happily, corking the last bottle. "This is an excellent remedy to for even the most stubborn forms of acne."

"Like what poor Eloise Midgen had," Harry heard Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff say sadly. "Cursed her nose off by accident while trying to get rid of it." Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes slightly at that. The bell rang not long after, and while the Hufflepuffs headed back to the castle, the Gryffindors set off across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut. Since Harry's third year, Hagrid had been the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Harry hoped he had gotten over the loss of faith that had lead the class to spend much of the previous year looking after flobberworms.

The class found Hagrid waiting patiently outside his hut, his massive boarhound Fang sitting nearby. There were several crates open nearby, from which a strange rattling noise was emanating, along with minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid called, grinning around. "Be'er wait for the Slytherins, they won' want to mis this. We're working Blast-Ended-Skrewts!"

"Come again?" Ron asked, and even Hermione looked confused. Hagrid responded by pointing to the crates. Everyone took a step forward too take a look.

"Eurgh!" Lavender said, jumping back. Harry couldn't blame her, the… _things_… in the crates were pale, slimy, and didn't seem to be shaped like any creature Harry could think of. They had no heads, though Harry could see milky white eyes moving aimlessly. They had several pairs of legs sticking out at random points along their bodies, and emitted sparks every now and then, propelling themselves forward. There were also at least a hundred in each of the crates, crawling over each other like worms. "Eurgh" just about summed them up.

"On'y just hatched!" Hagrid said, excited. "Yeh'll be able to raise them yourselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project out of it."

"And why would we want to raise them? What do they do?" Malfoy asked coldly as he and the rest of the Slytherins arrived. Harry seethed slightly; when Hagrid had started teaching last year, Malfoy had gone out of his way to cause trouble, getting injured because of it. He had then had the nerve to try and get Buckbeak, the hippogriff that had slashed him, executed. Still, a small, unbiased part of Harry's mind couldn't help but admit that the prat had a point.

Hagrid paused for a moment, obviously thinking. "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things, I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer. I got several diff'rent possiblities, just try 'em out with a bit of each."

Harry suppressed a sigh; Hagrid was his friend, and even though this was likely completely pointless, he would do what he could. With some cajoling from Hagrid, the rest of the class moved forward to join Harry, Ron, and Hermione in scooping up handfuls of frog liver and other disgusting things to give to the skrewts.

"Ouch! It got me!" Dean Thomas cried after a few minutes. Hagrid hurried over to see what had happened. "It burned me!" Dean hissed, showing a burnt hand. "Its end exploded and burned me!"

"Ah, yeah, that can happen." Hagrid said calmly. Lavender, meanwhile, had brought herself to take a closer look at the skrewts.

"Eurgh!" she said again. "Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stingers," Hagrid said enthusiastically. "I reckon they're the males… the females've got some sorta sucker on their bellies… I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," Malfoy said sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want a pet that can burn, sting, and suck blood all at once?"

"Just because they aren't very pretty, it doesn't mean that they're not useful!" Hermione snapped. "Dragon's blood is amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet." Harry and Ron snickered quietly, glancing at Hagrid. He would, in fact, love a dragon for a pet. He had actually had one for a brief period of time during Harry's first year, a vicious baby Norwegian Ridgeback named Norbert.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small." Ron said bracingly as the trio headed back to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now!" Hermione hissed. "But once Hagrid figures out what they eat, they'll probably grow to be six feet!"

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" Ron said, smirking. Hermione sighed in exasperation.

"You know perfectly well that I only said that to shut Malfoy up. As a matter of fact I think he's right for once. We should stamp the whole lot of them before they start attacking us."

They sat down at the Gryffindor table and started eating. Both Harry and Ron were surprised at how fast Hermione was wolfing down her food.

"Is this the new stand on elf rights?" Ron asked. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"No," Hermione said, trying to sound dignified even though her mouth was filled. "I just want to get to the library."

"_What_?" Ron asked, stunned. "It's the first day, Hermione! We don't even have homework yet!"

Hermione ignored him and finished her plate in record time. "See you at dinner!" she said as she sped out of the hall. Ron glanced at Harry and rolled his eyes. They both knew that Hermione was enamored with the Hogwarts library, but she generally waited a bit longer than this to go take refuge there. Soon, the bell rang and Harry and Ron headed to the North Tower.

Harry sighed as Professor Trelawny greeted the class in her normal melodramatic fashion. Sometimes, he wondered why he didn't just get rid of this class, it's not like he learned anything from it. He decided that he would consider it.

"You are preoccupied, my dear." Professor Trelawny said mournfully as she considered Harry. "My Inner Eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within… your worries are not baseless, I fear. Difficult times are ahead for you, and the thing you dread will indeed come to pass. I also see… no, it is to horrible to describe…" With a groan, Harry dropped his head to the table. Why did she insist on tormenting him with her baseless predictions of doom and misery?

"You ok, mate?" Ron asked quietly as Professor Trelawny started talking about how they were going to start looking at the movements of the planets, which apparently could decide human destinies. It was only with great effort that Harry didn't lay his head down again and go to sleep.

Finally, Professor Trelawny set the class to deciphering some complicated star charts to figure out where the planets had been when they were born. It was incredibly dull work, and Harry found several times that he had accidently repeated a planet in multiple places.

Finally, Professor Trelawny let them go, but not before giving them a mass of homework. Ron muttered about it all the way down towards the Great Hall, even more so after Hermione informed them somewhat smugly that she hadn't gotten any from her class.

"Hey, Weasley!" Harry groaned as Malfoy's voice drifted across the hall from the entrance to the dungeons.

"What?" Ron snarled, turning to face the other boy, who was looking quite pleased about something.

"You're dad's in the paper, Weasley!" Malfoy said, holding up the paper. He was also speaking as loud as he could without actually shouting, so that every single person in the Hall could hear.

'Of course he is.' Harry thought coldly as Malfoy shook the paper open dramatically. 'He's a bully and a coward, he wants a crowd both to hear his taunts and to protect himself from our wrath.'

_FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent.__Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office._

Malfoy looked up at this point.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed. Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

_Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder.__Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene._

Harry felt his blood boil again as Malfoy closed the paper again and held it up to reveal a picture. "There's a picture, too!" he called as if no one could see it. "You call that a house, Weasley? And your mother could stand to lose a little weight!"

It took a great deal of willpower for Harry to prevent himself from whipping his wand out and cursing Malfoy. Ron also seemed to be on the verge of attacking Malfoy physically. "Get stuffed!" Harry shouted back, grabbing Ron as he started forward with murder in his eyes.

"You were staying with them, right Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "Tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" Harry shot back, still holding Ron back despite the little voice in the back of his head telling him to let go and get his wand out. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Does she always look like that, or is it just because you were with her?" Malfoy turned pink.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter." Harry laughed slightly at that.

"Then keep your fat mouth shut about other people's mothers." With that, he turned Ron around and started leading him towards the Great Hall.

Some sixth sense kicked in suddenly, so Harry was already ducking as a BANG echoed through the hall and something breezed over his head. Screams were just beginning to be heard as Harry spun, his wand finding his hand and a spell flying from the tip. A jet of bluish light struck Malfoy in the chest, blasting him backwards into the wall. His wand spun in a lazy arc to Harry's off hand, even as he kept his own wand on Malfoy, a dozen curses and hexes that would put the little coward out of commission flitting through his mind.

The silence that filled the hall was suddenly broken by a round of applause. Harry turned slightly, keeping one eye on Malfoy as he rose unsteadily to his feet. At the top of the stairs leading deeper into the castle stood Professor Mad-Eye Moody, who was clapping as he came closer.

"Well done, Potter, well done!" he called, smiling broadly as he limped towards Harry. This did not make his face any more pleasant, if anything it was worse. "Excellent reflexes, true aim. Exactly what I've been hoping for." Harry slowly lowered his wand, but keep it in his hand.

"Thank you, Professor," he said quietly.

"My father…" Malfoy started, but Moody interrupted coldly.

"You know, boy? I don't like people who attack when their opponent's backs are turned. It's a stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. If Mr. Potter hadn't already dealt with you, I would have done something far worse." He started advancing a few steps. "As for your father, let's say I know things about your father. If you tell him anything, tell him old Moody's keeping an eye on his son." Malfoy blushed, glaring at Harry. "Now Potter, why don't you give that to me?" Moody said, gesturing to Malfoy's wand. "I'll keep it nice and safe." Harry slowly handed it to the professor, still keeping an eye on Malfoy. "And again, nice job. In fact, ten points to Gryffindor for this practical demonstration of what to do if you're ever attacked from behind." With that he stomped over to Malfoy. "Now, I think we should have a quick talk with your head of house before I give this back to you, laddie. That would be Snape, yes. Another old friend of mine, Snape, been meaning to pay him a visit."

Harry turned and led the way into the Great Hall. It took him a moment to realize that people were staring at him, and some were even starting to whisper to their neighbors.

"What is it this time?" he asked Ron and Hermione in annoyance, gesturing to the nearest cluster of mutterers before noticing that his friends looked little better. Hermione was chewing her lip slightly, which she only did when she was really nervous, and Ron was just staring at him.

"What was that?" Hermione asked finally in a small voice.

"Malfoy attacked, I retaliated." Harry said simply. "What's strange about that?"

"I don't think she meant that, mate." Ron said. "I think she was more interested in the glowing."

"What glowing?" Harry asked, looking between them. Both looked nervous.

"Your… Your eyes were glowing, when you cursed Malfoy." Hermione whispered. "Your scar was as well. It was… sort of scary, actual." Harry's eyes widened.

"What?" he asked, thinking he had misunderstood. "My eyes were glowing?" Both his friends nodded.

"So this is… you didn't realize you were doing it?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head, glancing down at his food. He hadn't felt this wrong footed since Ron and Hermione had told him in second year that he was a Parseltounge.

"I have to go to the library." Hermione said after a few minutes of silence. "But before I do… I looked up those things we saw pulling the carts." She took a deep breath. "They're called thestrals, a type of flying horse. They were always there, pulling the carts, we just couldn't see them. You see; the only people who can see thestrals are those who have seen death." On that happy note, she got up and left the Hall. Ron and Harry shared a long look, before going back to their meals.

* * *

><p>Over the next two days, the rumors of Harry's fight with Malfoy spread, as such things often did in Hogwarts. Soon, everyone was giving Harry a second glance. Harry even though he saw Professor McGonagall study him during their next Transfiguration class, though that might have been because he was the second person to switch the composition of his brick and rubber ball, a mere two attempts after Hermione. While Harry had always been decent at Transfiguration, he had never mastered anything that quickly.<p>

Throughout all this, Harry was still thinking about what had happened. Malfoy had always annoyed him, with his pure-blood bigotry and arrogance. Ever since first year, Harry had wanted to take him down a peg, and had succeeded a few times on the Quidditch field, where they both played Seeker. However, no matter what, Malfoy seemed to regain his swagger and keep up his bullying. Still, now that Harry had time to think about it, several of the hexes he had thought of, standing over Malfoy, had been quite brutal. What disturbed Harry was that he might well have used them, had Malfoy made any threatening moves. He would have hexed Malfoy, even though he didn't have his wand, even though he wasn't a threat anymore.

Harry was musing about this as he and Ron sat down in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the year. Hermione had run off to the library again, just as she had the previous days. When pressed, she had said she had personal research to do. Harry wondered if she was looking for anything on glowing eyes. She arrived just before the bell rang.

"You can put those away." Moody said as he entered, gesturing towards the books on several desks. "You won't be needing them." Everyone looked excited at this, Professor Lupin had made practical lessons fun, and the previous two teachers had only ever used books. It seemed Moody would take the former plan.

Moody spent a few moments taking roll, his magical eye spinning to look at each member of the class as he read their name. Finally, he finished.

"Right. I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures." He leaned forward over his desk, staring from one face to another. "But you're behind, very behind, on dealing with curses. It will be my job to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I only have one year to teach you how to deal with Dark…"

"Wait, aren't you staying?" Ron asked. Moody's magic eye spun to stare at him. Ron looked apprehensive, but Moody smiled. It looked just as disturbing as it had the first time, but Harry took comfort in the knowledge that Moody did smile.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Ron nodded. "Your father got me out of a tight corner a few days ago. Good man, Arthur Weasley. Yes, I'm only staying the year. Special favor to Dumbledore." He laughed quietly, before becoming frighteningly silent.

"Now, curses. They come in many strengths and forms. I'm only supposed to teach you the counter curses, leave it at that. The Ministry doesn't think your old enough to handle what the darkest of magic looks like. Dumbledore and I think differently. The sooner you know what you're up against, the better." He turned to the board and started writing. "A Dark wizard isn't going to tell you what he's going to do to you. He isn't going to be polite. You need to know what you're up against, you need to be prepared. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender Brown jumped slightly, putting the horoscope she had been showing Parvati under her desk. Apparently, the magical eye could see through anything, including desks and the back of his head.

"Now, who can tell me what the curses most heavily punished by wizarding law are?" Moody asked, turning back to the class, tapping the board so that it appeared blank. Several hands went up, including Ron and Hermione's. Moody pointed to Ron.

"Er… My dad told me about one, the Imperius Curse?" Moody nodded happily.

"Yes, your father would know about that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble." He tapped the board with his wand, revealing the word, before grabbing a glass jar from his desk. Three spiders were scuttling around within. Moody casually caught one with his hand, causing Ron to flinch slightly. "_Imperio!_"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk, swinging into a back flip. It then started doing cartwheels. Most of the class started laughing, but Harry felt a wave of nausea and anger flow through him. It was clear this spider was acting under Moody's complete dominion.

Moody seemed to share Harry's disgust. "You find this funny, do you?" he asked in a deadly voice. "Would you like it if I did it to you?" Everyone stopped laughing. "Total control. I could make it do anything. It could jump out the window, drown itself, or crawl down one of your throats." He raised his wand, and the spider crawled swiftly from the table. It might have just been Harry, but it seemed to be absolutely terrified.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," Moody continued, obviously discussing Voldemort's reign of terror. "The Ministry had some job figuring out who was forced to act, and who committed crimes of their free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how. Unfortunately, it takes a lot of strength, not something everyone has. Best to avoid being hit. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Everyone jumped. "Anyone else know either of the Imperius Curse's brothers?" Moody continued calmly.

Hermione raised her hand, but Harry was surprised when Neville's hand joined hers. Normally he only volunteered information in Herbology.

"Yes." Moody said, looking at Neville with his magical eye.

"The… the Cruciatus Curse." Neville said in a small voice. Moody looked slightly surprised.

"Your name is Longbottom, yes?" he asked, and Neville nodded. Moody studied him for a moment longer, before grabbing the next spider. "_Engorgio!_" he murmured, causing the spider to swell to the size of a tarantula. Ron looked like he was about to bolt. "_Crucio!_" Moody hissed.

The spider rolled over onto its back as Moody dropped it onto the desk. It started twitching, its legs jerking horribly. Harry thought for a moment that he could hear distant screeches of agony.

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly, and as Harry glanced at her, he realized she was watching Neville, who was staring in horror at the spider, his hands clenched into fists. Moody raised his wand, and the spider went still, before it slowly started trying to turn over. He then shrank it and put it back into the jar.

"Pain." Moody said simply, glancing around. "Very popular, at one point." He glanced around. "And the last?"

There was a moment of inaction before Hermione raised her hand slowly. "_Avada Kedavera._"

Moody nodded grimly, grabbing the last spider and placing it on the desk. It desperately started sprinting towards the edge of the desk.

"_Avada Kedavera!_" Moody roared.

As he did, Harry heard a second voice, high and cold, saying the same words in triumph. A flash of green light filled his eyes, and his scar prickled for a moment as the spider skidded to a halt, dead. A rushing sound filled the room, as if to mark the departure of the spider's soul from the mortal realm.

"Not nice." Moody said as he swept the spider off his desk. "Not present. There's no defense, no counter-curse. There's only one person in the world who's ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Harry wasn't really listening anymore. Was that how his parent's had died? Two words, a flash of light, and then death? Harry had known the basics, but to see it like that…

"_Avada Kedavera _is a curse that needs a fair bit of power behind it." Moody said quietly, keeping his magical eye on Harry. "You may ask why I'm showing it to you, and the answer is that _you have got to know_. You have to know what you're facing. Hope that you never find yourself in a situation where you see it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Everyone jumped again.

"Now these three curses are called the Unforgivable Curses, because the willing use of any one of them on another human being is an automatic life sentence to Azkaban." Harry nodded, that sounded just. "Now, write this down…"

The rest of the class was spent taking notes, and not a word was spoken until the bell rang. After people left, they started chatting about the curses. Harry listened to them, speaking like it had been some amazing show. Another flash of rage filled him. Did these fools not understand what they had just seen?

'Of course they didn't.' he thought, calming slightly. 'They're innocents. They never had to hear their parents' last words, never felt true pain.'

"Come on!" Hermione hissed, not sounding any happier than Harry felt. He glanced at her, and then followed her eyes to see Neville standing by himself, staring hopelessly at the wall.

"Neville?" he asked gently, standing beside the other boy, who jerked slightly.

"Oh, hi Harry," he said in a falsely cheery voice. "Very interesting dinner… I mean lesson… what's for eating."

Harry ignored his babble. "Neville, is there anything I can do to help? I know that hurt." Ron looked surprised at Harry's statement.

"Harry…" He was interrupted by a clunking noise. Everyone looked back to see Moody coming up behind them. He spoke in a much gentler voice than he had before.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, sonny. Why don't you come to my office? We'll have a cup of tea, and there's something I want to give you." Neville looked terrified, and Harry was a second away from telling Moody that he could take care of Neville. Something must have shown on Harry's face.

"I know it seems harsh, Potter," he said quietly, "but you've got to know. No point pretending. If you hide from the truth now, it'll catch you unawares later." There was a moment of silence between the two before Moody turned back to Neville. "Come on, Longbottom. It's alright."

Harry watched Moody lead Neville away, fighting the desire to go after them.

"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked quietly, shaking his friend's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Ron." In truth, Harry didn't know how he felt.

They ate lunch as they usually had this year; Hermione was gone within 15 minutes. Harry, who couldn't force himself to think of anything else, finally brought the Unforgivable Curses up himself.

"Wouldn't Dumbledore and Moody get in trouble if the Ministry found out about this." Ron chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"Probably, but when has that ever stopped them?" Harry shook his head slightly, that was true. They then left for the Gryffindor common room.

"So, should we get our Divination stuff?" Harry asked. Better to get the stupid stuff out of the way. Ron groaned, but nodded. They headed up to their dormitory to get their books and found Neville, who was looking happier than he had before.

"You alright, Neville?" Ron asked.

"Yes." Neville said, looking up from the book he was reading. "Professor Moody lent me this book," he held up _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean_. "Professor Sprout told him I'm good at Herbology, he thought I'd like it." Harry smiled, that was a very good way to cheer Neville up. He mentally took back all the unkind things he had been thinking about Moody; that was something Professor Lupin would have done.

Harry and Ron spent the next hour trying to work out their predictions for the coming month. It was slow, frustrating work, and Harry was getting bored.

"You know, Harry." Ron said finally. "I think it's time we went back to the old Divination standby." Harry glanced up.

"What, make it up?"

"Yeah," Ron said, sweeping the junk aside and starting to write. "Next Monday, I'll develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He glanced at Harry. "You know how she is, put misery in there and she'll lap it up."

Harry felt guilty for a moment, before consoling himself that this class was entirely pointless, and he should hurry so that he could do something productive with his time. Soon, they were making up steadily more tragic predictions.

"I'll… get stabbed in the back by a friend."

"I'm pretty sure that I'm going to twist my ankle."

"I'm going to fall into the lake and drown."

"Oh yeah, well I'm getting decapitated!"

Finally, after an hour, Hermione returned, carrying a sheaf of parchment and a box. At that moment, both Ron and Harry finished their "predictions."

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" Hermione said sardonically as she read Ron's predictions over his shoulder.

"Well, at least I'm forewarned!" Ron said dramatically. Hermione shook her head.

"Isn't it _painfully_ obvious you're making this all up?"

"How dare you!" Ron said, pretending to be outraged. "We've been working like house-elves here!" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "It's just an expression."

"What's in the box?" Harry asked quickly, trying to head off another argument.

"Funny you should ask that." Hermione said coolly, glaring at Ron. She opened the box, showing a pile of badges, all with the word, or acronym, S.P.E.W. written on them.

"Spew?" Ron asked, picking one up. "Never heard of it."

"It's not _spew_, its S.P.E.W.! That stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare. And of course you haven't heard of it, I just founded it!"

"Yeah?" Ron asked, smirking. "How many members have you got?"

"Well, if you two join… three," Hermione said, blushing slightly. "But you're the first people I'm telling, so that number will grow!"

"How many people will want to walk around with badges spelling out the word spew?" Ron asked.

"It's not spew, it's S.P.E.W.!" Hermione said fiercely. "I was going to make it Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status, but it wouldn't fit. I put that as the heading of our manifesto." Harry shuddered slightly as Hermione shook the sheaf of parchment she was carrying, before reaching out and taking it.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries, I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now." Harry could, but didn't say anything. Hermione's manifesto was quite… passionate.

"Hermione, open your ears." Ron said slowly. "They. Like. It. They _like_ being enslaved."

"Dobby didn't," Harry said distantly, still reading the manifesto.

"Well, he thought sending you home in pieces was the best way to protect you, didn't he?" Ron said dismissively.

"Our short-term aims," Hermione said firmly, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

Harry nodded slowly, finishing up the last page of the manifesto. Once one got over the shock factor, it was actually pretty good. The problem was that most people wouldn't look past the shock factor.

"How are you going to do that?" Ron asked.

"Well, first we have to recruit members." Hermione said. "I thought two Sickles for the badge. All the proceeds will go to our leaflet campaign. You're the treasurer, Ron; I've got a collecting tin for you upstairs. Harry, you'll be secretary, so you should probably get a piece of parchment out and write everything I'm saying, so we can have a record of our first meeting."

"Bit late for that, don't you think?" Harry said sardonically as Ron rolled his eyes. Hermione looked between them for a moment, but was interrupted by a tapping at the window. They all looked at the window. It was Hedwig.

"Hedwig!" Harry called, springing to his feet and rushing over to let his owl in. She hooted gratefully, landing on the table where he and Ron had been making their predictions.

"She's got an answer!" Ron said, pointing to the grubby piece of parchment. Harry swiftly untied it. It was short, and looked like it had been written in haste.

_Harry—_

_I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scare is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me. If it hurts again, go strait to Dumbledore. They're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is._

_I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry, and stay safe._

_Sirius._

Harry looked up, horrified.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming _back_?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" Ron asked. "Harry, what's up?"

"I shouldn't have told him!" Harry muttered, smacking himself on the forehead. "I made him think that he had to come back! I'm fine, he's going to get himself caught because of me!" Hissing in frustration, he got up and stalked towards the boy's dormitory.

It had been a stupid thing to do, telling Sirius. Of course he would play the dutiful godfather, a role he had been denied when he was locked up in Azkaban, and come to Harry's rescue. Now, Harry needed to figure out something to do…

The next day, Harry got up early, though not due to nightmares. This time he had a plan. He crept downstairs without waking any of the others. Sitting quietly, he wrote a quick letter.

_Dear Sirius,_

_I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, I was half asleep when I wrote to you last time. There's no point in coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, I'm feeling fine._

_Harry_

He swiftly walked through the school to the Owlery, which rested at the top of the West Tower. Once there, he coxed Hedwig down from her perch and tied the letter to her leg.

"Please, find him," he whispered. "Find him before the dementors do."

Hedwig nipped his finger slightly before swooping from the tower. Harry stood silently, staring out at the Forbidden Forest. He had thought that Sirius' reply would just be a calming explanation, reassuring him that such things were nothing to worry about. Instead, his godfather had only made him feel worse.

As he stood, a dark shape rose from the forest. Watching, Harry realized that it was one of the thestrals. He had read briefly about them in his copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, and wondered if the blurb about thestrals being ill omens was true.

"That was a lie, Harry," Hermione said sharply over breakfast when he told his friends what he had done.

"I don't care. Sirius is not going back to Azkaban because of me." Harry said simply. Hermione looked like she was about to argue, but Ron silenced her with a glance.

That evening, Hermione dragged Ron and Harry to the library.

"So, have you two thought any more about the group I've formed?" she asked, looking between the two boys. Ron rolled his eyes, but Harry nodded slowly.

"A little." Both his friends stared at him.

"That's great, Harry!" Hermione whispered excitedly, glancing at Madam Pince, who was dusting a nearby shelf. "Well, thoughts?"

"I certainly think you have the right idea, Hermione." Harry said carefully, "However, and don't take this the wrong way, you're plan is quite… ambitious." Hermione blinked. "Here, let me see your manifesto." She handed it to him wordlessly. "I mean, you say it right here, elves have been slaves for centuries. Any group is going to have their hands full simply getting most wizards to accept that house-elves can be more than servants…"

"So we should just give up?" Hermione hissed, glaring at Harry, her previous good mood gone.

"I did not say that, Hermione," Harry said soothingly. "I simply think you should know that this is going to be a very long and difficult fight that should be taken in slow, gentle steps." Harry opened up the manifesto again.

"I know that!" Hermione said firmly "My only question is whether you two are going to help." Ron sighed.

"Hermione, were you listening when I said they like it?" he asked wearily. "I mean, look at Winky. Mr. Crouch was horrible to her, but she still wanted to stay. Thought being fired was the worst fate that could befall her."

"That's because their uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione growled, glaring at Ron with a look that Harry only normally saw on Professor McGonagall.

"Another thing," Harry said quickly, trying to head off an argument. "This is for the house-elves, so they should be involved in some way." Hermione brightened.

"So, if the house-elves agree with me, you'll help?" Harry nodded, and Ron followed suit a moment later. "Great, I'll start trying to find and recruit them immediately." With that, she swept out of the library, leaving the boys behind.

"Why do I get the feeling we just made it worse?" Ron muttered.

* * *

><p>The next few weeks passed in a confusing jumble for Harry. His imagination kept coming up with nightmarish images of potential fates for his godfather. His continued nightmares and phantom pains only exacerbated these. He was also finding many more demands on his time, even without Quidditch.<p>

His classes were still going far better than he remembered. While Hermione was still doing better than he was, Harry was now consistently getting second in spell casting. Whereas before he had to carefully work out how to do spells, now it almost seemed to be instinctive. Still, written work was a challenge, "It just felt right," generally didn't go over well with teachers.

Professor Moody in particular was pushing his students very hard. He gave them a nasty surprise one day when he told them that he would be placing each of them under the Imperius curse, so that they would be better prepared to fight it should they ever have to.

"But… didn't you say it was illegal, Professor?" Hermione said nervously as Moody banished the desks to the side of the room with a wave of his wand.

"Professor Dumbledore and I think that you should know what it feels like," Moody said, staring at her with his magical eye. "If you want to find out the hard way, when someone is using it to make you do horrible things, that's fine by me. You're excused, off you go." Ron snickered slightly as Hermione blushed and said that she hadn't been saying she wanted to leave.

Harry was too busy being nervous. The thought of having any semblance of control ripped from him, to be at the mercy of a paranoid old man who might be insane was causing him to seriously consider taking Moody up on his offer to leave.

Lavender Brown was called first. After a second, she was hopping around the room, imitating a squirrel. Ron was chuckling under his breath, but Harry felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This was wrong, so very, very wrong…

Dean Thomas was next, and he was soon hopping around the room, singing the national anthem. Neville went next, and he started doing an amazing series of gymnastics that would have been far beyond his abilities under normal circumstances.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked as Hermione was called forward. Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak without being sick. Hermione lasted a few seconds longer than most, but she was soon reciting Shakespeare's Juliet with a sappy look on her face. "What was it like?" Ron hissed as she returned to them, looking shaken, while Parvati was called forward.

"Weird," Hermione said quietly, watching Parvati start to dance gracefully. "It was like… no matter how ridiculous the request… it made sense, and was completely natural." She glanced at Harry, who had whimpered slightly. "Harry…"

"Potter, you're up." Moody called in a bored voice, while Parvati retreated, blushing. Harry walked slowly to the center of the room, trembling. "Relax, Potter. We're doing this here so you won't be in danger later."

'I'm about to have my mind ripped from my control,' Harry thought bitterly. 'I'll relax when I damn well feel like it.'

"_Imperio_!" Harry squeezed his eyes shut as Moody shot the spell at him. A moment of calmness passed over him before his mind rebelled.

'_I WILL NOT BE CONTROLLED_!' a voice roared in the back of Harry's mind, and a crash echoed through the classroom.

"Professor!" Hermione squealed, and Harry opened his eyes. He saw Moody rising slowly from the other side of his desk, stained with ink from a shattered bottle and holding the back of his head. Harry was still standing in the center of the room.

"I'm alright, girl, keep your head." Moody said, studying Harry intently. "What was that, Potter?"

"I… don't know, Professor," Harry said truthfully. "I just really didn't want to be controlled." He looked down. Moody continued to watch him, before chuckling.

"Well, whatever it is, it worked brilliantly." Everyone stared at him. "The important thing is that you have a massive resistance to the Imperius curse. They'll have a hard time controlling you." He nodded, gesturing Harry back. "Next…"

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly as they left the class. No one else had been able to resist the curse. Harry nodded. He felt much better now that he had gotten out of the room.

"I just want to know what he's playing at." Harry snarled. "Those curses are illegal for a reason. Evil is _not_ a teaching tool."

"I know." Ron muttered. He had been forced to skip around the room, singing like a little girl. "Paranoid old bugger. To hear him, you'd think we're all going to be attacked any second. No wonder they were glad to be shot of him at the Ministry."

Hermione ignored them. "Harry, you didn't really answer my question." She looked around. "You're far too old to be doing accidental magic. Are you…"

"I'm fine, Hermione." Harry said coolly. "Let's just hope the reading isn't too disturbing." They had been ordered to read the chapter on the Imperius Curse.

There was a definite increase in the amount of homework the fourth years were facing. Professor McGonagall explained this after a particularly loud groan in one of her classes.

"You are entering one of the most important stages of you're magical education!" she said firmly. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing near…"

"We don't take O.W.L.s until fifth year!" Dean Thomas said indignantly.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get!" Professor McGonagall said coolly. "Miss Granger and Mr. Potter remain the only people who have managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you, Thomas, that your pincushion still curls up in fear if approached with a pin!"

Harry and Ron had a brief moment of amusement when Professor Trelawney gave them both full marks on their homework, but were less happy when she told them to do it again, they were running out of ideas for catastrophes.

Snape was his usual self, sneering around the dungeon and handing out ridiculous insults and punishments to the Gryffindors and ignoring the Slytherins' sabotage. He was also forcing them to research antidotes, and had insinuated that he may be poising one of them to ensure that they had successfully done their work. Harry silently swore that if Snape tried to kill either of his friends, there would be _words_. Flitwick had joined the other teachers by giving his Charms students three large books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms. Harry found this particularly frustrating, knowing that in all likelyhood he wouldn't understand the reading but would still find the spell simple.

They were distracted by the large sign they found in the Great Hall a week before Halloween.

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O' CLOCK ON FRIDAY, THE 30TH OF OCTOBER, LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY.

"Brilliant!" Harry muttered. "It's Potions last thing Friday. Snape won't have time to poison us all."

STUDENT'S WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN THE FORNT OF THE CASTE TO GREE OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMEING FEAST.

"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd. "I wonder if Cedric knows?" He hurried off.

"Cedric?" Ron asked.

"Diggory," Harry said. "He must be entering." Ron scoffed.

"That idiot? Hogwarts champion?"

"He's not an idiot, Ronald," Hermione said coolly. "You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch."

"You only like him because he's handsome," Ron said scathingly. Harry rolled his eyes, tuning the others out.

"I don't like people just because they're handsome!" Hermione hissed.

"_cough _Lockheart! _cough_"

Over the next week, the castle went through a dramatic shift. Wherever Harry went, all anyone could talk about was the Tournament. There was also a massive cleaning program initiated, trying to purge what felt like centuries of grim.

Even the teachers were on edge. "Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of a particularly nasty lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ear onto a cactus.

When the thirtieth of October arrived, the trio arrived in the Great Hall to find it decked out with color. Each table had a banner representing their house. Behind the Head Table was a banner bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms, a lion, badger, eagle, and snake united about a massive letter H.

Harry glanced around, noticing clusters of people chatting about the impending arrival of a number of foreign wizards. He saw Fred and George, however. They were sitting apart from everyone else, their heads together. This was most unusual for them, seeing as they usually liked to be the center of attention. He nodded towards them and the trio headed over.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying quietly.

"But if he won't talk to us, then we'll have the send the letter after all," Fred muttered. "Or just shove it in his hand, he can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" Ron asked as he sat down.

"Wish you would," Fred muttered, glaring at Ron. Harry felt a flash of annoyance; that had been uncalled for.

"What's a bummer?"

"Having a git like you for a brother."

"Have you two had any thoughts for the Triwizard Tournament?" Harry interrupted.

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen, but she wasn't telling," George said bitterly. Harry wondered what had put these two in such a bad mood; they were normally quite funny and bright. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" Ron said. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't." Fred said dismissively.

"Who're the judges?" Harry asked.

"Well, there are five, and all three of the heads of the schools are on the board." Everyone stared at her. "What, it's all in_Hogwarts, A History_." She suddenly looked furious. "Though, that book's not entirely reliable. _A Revised History of Hogwarts_ would be a more accurate title. Or A _Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School_."

"Hermione…" Harry started wearily. Her enthusiasm to pursue S.P.E.W. had not diminished in the slightest. He and Ron had bought badges, though Harry suspected that Ron had just wanted her to be quiet. She had than gone on to try to get them to wear their badges (Harry agreed on occasion, when he was trying to calm her down). Harry was constantly trying to get her to talk to the house-elves, and she said that she was working on contacting them. She made it sound like this was going to be a difficult and deadly task. Harry suspected that simply asking Fred and George would get the information, but she insisted that they not invade the kitchen.

"It's probably the only place they feel safe, Harry!" she had said when he suggested this. "Unless my efforts to meet one elsewhere fails, I'm going to avoid that."

She had much less reservations about seeking out other humans. She was constantly talking to people, especially in Gryffindor, trying to convert them. Several nominally joined, just to get her to stop glaring at them. A few seemed interested, but were unwilling to go deeper into the campaign, they had other problems to deal with. Most saw it as a joke. Harry was still trying to convince her to set her initial sights lower, but she refused to back down.

Hermione spun to argue with him, but was interrupted by the arrival of Hedwig with the rest of the post owls. Harry immediately grabbed the letter she bore, giving her some bacon before unrolling it.

_Nice try, Harry_

_I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts, though you shouldn't use Hedwig all the time, change owls. Don't worry about me, watch out for yourself._

_Sirius._

"Why should you change owls?" Ron asked quietly as Harry put the letter away.

"Hedwig'll attract too much attention," Hermione said. "She's not native, she'll lead the Ministry to his hiding place."

Harry was silent. On the one hand, it was a relief knowing that Sirius had made it into the country, but still…

His pensive mood did not fade throughout the day. In retrospect, it was good that many teachers all but gave up because everyone was more interested in the upcoming arrival of the other schools. Before Harry knew it, he and the rest of the school were being lined up in the Great Hall by their Heads of House. Harry straitened his hat, still wondering what the stupid things were good for.

"Wonder how they'll be getting here?" Ron asked. "The train?"

"I doubt it," Hermione said. Harry nodded, he remembered what Mr. Weasley had told him about wizards showing off when they get together.

After a time, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Unless I am much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons is approaching!" An outbreak of muttering met this declaration.

"There!" someone shouted, pointing. A dark shape was hurtling towards the castle, growing larger with each passing second.

"It's a dragon!" a poor first year girl yelped, hiding her face.

"Don't be stupid, it's a flying house!" Dennis Creevey called. He turned out to be closer as a giant carriage, about the size of a house, fell from the sky, pulled by six massive winged horses. It landed, causing a crash that Harry was sure could be heard for miles. He caught a brief glimpse of their coat of arms, two crossed wands shooting three stars, before the door opened.

A boy in powder blue robes jumped out, extended a set of gold stairs, and stepped back. A second later, the largest woman Harry had ever seen stepped out of the carriage. Hagrid was the only person Harry had ever seen who could compare. As the lights of Hogwarts fell on her, Harry saw that she had handsome olive skin, and wore a great deal of jewelry.

Dumbledore started to clap, and was soon followed by the rest of the school. The woman smiled, walking forward.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Madame Maxime!" Dumbledore said warmly, not having to bend at all to kiss her offered hand.

"Dumbly-dorr," she said. "I 'ope I find you well."

"Very well, I thank you." Dumbledore answered.

"My pupils." Madame Maxim said, gesturing towards the carriage. Harry glanced around the two heads, noticing a group of about a dozen young adults. All of them were shivering, seeing as they wore light robes and no cloaks. Only a few were wearing scarves.

"Has Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"Not yet, though he should be here any moment." Dumbledore said. He glanced at the assembled students. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or step inside to warm up?"

"Warm up, I think. But ze 'orses…"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Where is Hagrid, anyways?" Ron muttered, looking around.

"Skrewts," Harry said simply. The little beasts were not so little anymore.

"My steeds require… forceful 'andling," Madame Maxime said warily.

"Hagrid is well up to the task, I assure you," Dumbledore said, smiling. Madame Maxime nodded, before leading her students in.

More waiting ensued. "I wonder how big the Durmstrang horses will be?" Ron said.

"I doubt that Durmstrang will be using horses." Harry said quietly. "They're showing off, so they would want to be different."

Suddenly, a noise drifted over the grounds. "What's that?" someone asked. Harry looked around, it almost sounded like someone was running a vacuumed cleaner through water…

"The lake!" Lee Jordan called. The smooth surface was clearly visible, as were the ripples that were beginning to disturb it. As Harry watched, a whirlpool appeared, as if someone had pulled the plug, and from the center rose a mast. A moment later, the rest of the ship rose. It looked almost like a ghost ship, it's portholes glowing like eyes. Soon, it arrived at the shore and a plank was lowered. Another dozen or so shapes, all quite bulky walked up to the castle.

"Dumbledore!" the lead figure called warmly, walking into the light. He wore silky robes that matched his hair. He had a beaky nose, not at all unlike Snape's. He also bore a goatee.

"Professor Karkaroff!" Dumbledore called back. "It is good to see you."

"And you, my friend." Karkaroff smiled, but his eyes remained cool and calculating. "And dear old Hogwarts, so good to see it again." He turned back to his students, who were wearing bulky furs. "May we please go inside, Viktor has a head cold, and he needs some warmth…"

"An excellent idea," Dumbledore said, gesturing his students to prepare to re-enter the school As the Durmstrang students passed, Harry recognized the one that Karkaroff was leading.

"Harry!" Ron hissed. "It's _Krum_!"

AN: Things heat up, with Justice beginning to make his presence known. He's still dormant at this point, recovering from his near-death experience after leaving Anders, so he can't really talk. Hope you all like and review, please.


	4. Into the Madness

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative than I am. I am in no way profiting from this story.

Reviewer Response:

Lanake: Thanks for your support. You're English is brilliant, by the way, much better than my foreign language skills.

Teresa Bells: Thanks for putting the story in a group, I think it worked. I was wondering how that works; I have another story that's purely Dragon Age, and I've been trying to get it to stand out from the 8000+ other stories. Any advice? And sorry about the typos, I'm trying to cut back.

Devilare Mshadi: Justice will start having a bigger effect as his strength grows. Thanks for the advice about the quotations, I'll go back and check.

So you want to be an Author: Patience, please. Justice is still getting used to his new body; he spent many years in Anders, and nearly died when going to Harry, he's weak. He's getting stronger though, and rest assured that things will change. Please give the story a chance to develop before judging it.

Crazyjim87: I was thinking of keeping him with Ginny. Just wondering, how would it work with Fleur? I'm legitimately curious.

Chapter 3: Into the Madness

"I don't believe it!" Ron hissed as he and Harry joined the rest of the Hogwarts students into the school. "It's Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's just a Quidditch player!" Hermione said.

"_Just a Quidditch player_?" Ron said, staring at Hermione in horror. "Hermione- he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still in school!"

Ron was not the only one who was excited, Harry saw Lee Jordan, the twin's best friend, was bouncing on the soles of his feet to see him, while several sixth year girls were wondering whether he would sign their hats in lipstick. Hermione scoffed.

"I'm sure he's just _wonderful_, but this is completely ridiculous," she muttered. Ron ignored her.

"I'm getting an autograph if I can," he said. "You haven't got a quill, have you Harry?"

"No, there all upstairs in my bag," Harry answered. He had to admit that Hermione had a point; he had gotten tired of his own fame long ago. Still, this was an international player; easily the best Seeker Harry had ever had the privilege of watching. He didn't particularly care about an autograph, he would be happy to watch Krum fly again, he had learned a lot.

The Beauxbatons had moved to sit at the Ravenclaw table, and were looking around the Great Hall in disappointment. Several were still clutching their scarves. The Durmstrang students, meanwhile, were still standing by the doors of the Great Hall, seeming to be unsure of where to sit.

"Come on Hermione, budge up, make space!" Ron hissed, staring at Krum. He was disappointed, however, as Krum and the other Durmstrang students went to sit at the Slytherin table. Ron muttered mutinously as Malfoy leaned over to talk to Krum.

Harry ignored the byplay, looking up at the Head Table. Four extra seats had been added, and the Heads of the guest schools were just sitting down. Dumbledore, however, remained standing as he cleared his throat. Everyone looked to him.

"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, ghosts, and most importantly, guests," he called, smiling around the Hall. Somehow, it seemed more crowded than usual, probably because of the multicolored robes. "I have the great pleasure of welcoming each and every one of you to Hogwarts, and I hope that you will find your stay here both comfortable and enjoyable." One of the Beauxbatons girls scoffed. Harry felt a flash of annoyance, no one had made her come, or was making her stay.

"Now, I invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home," Dumbledore called, ignoring the girl. He then sat as the plates filled with food. Harry quickly realized that the standard Hogwarts fare was now sprinkled with more… exotic dishes.

"What is _that?_" Ron asked in disgust, pointing at a large dish of shellfish stew.

"Bouillabasse," Hermione said immediately.

"Bless you," Ron said. Harry rolled his eyes slightly.

"It's _French_," said Hermione coolly. "I had it over the holidays, its very good."

"I'll take your word for it," Ron muttered, grabbing his normal steak-and-kidney pudding.

After a few minutes, Harry glanced up at the Head Table again. Dumbledore and Karkaroff were talking quietly, and Madam Maxime was quietly absorbed in her food. The two seats on either side of the Heads remained empty.

"Wonder who else is coming?" he asked quietly, nodding towards the empty seats. Ron shrugged. Hermione looked like she was about to give an idea when she was interrupted.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabasse?" Harry felt a strange aura as he glanced at the speaker. It was the Beauxbatons girl who had scoffed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler, releasing a wave of silky silver hair. Her eyes were a captivating blue, though she still didn't look particularly happy.

Ron was an absolute mess. He was staring at her like he had never seen a girl before. Harry quickly realized that his friend wouldn't be able to answer anytime soon.

"Yes, you can have it," he said quickly, pushing the stew towards the girl. Best to get her away before Ron did something he'd regret later.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?" the girl asked.

'Obviously, or I wouldn't be offering it to you,' Harry thought, but he forced a smile.

"Yeah," Ron seemed to have finally found his voice, though it was a bit higher than normal. "Yeah, it was excellent." The girl looked at him for a moment, before shaking her head and delicately picking the dish up and carrying it back to the Ravenclaw table. Ron continued to stare after her.

"Mate, if you don't close your mouth something's liable to land in it," Harry said quietly. That got Ron's attention.

"She's a veela!" he hissed to Harry. Hermione scoffed, but Harry realized Ron had a point. There had defiantly been an odd sense about the girl, and Ron was not the only boy who was staring at her. She was not a full veela, certainly, but maybe half?

"If you'll put your eyes back in, Ronald." Hermione said tartly, "You'll see who just arrived."

Harry looked back at the High Table, noticing that the two empty chairs had finally been filled by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman.

"What are they doing here?" he asked.

"Well, they helped organize the tournament, didn't they?" Hermione answered, still glaring at Ron, whose eyes had drifted back to the part-veela. Harry rolled his eyes slightly, they were well outside whatever aura she was generating, this was all Ron.

Dessert passed in silence for the trio, though Ron tried to get the girl's attention by moving various French dishes so that they were visible. However, she seemed to be done. After a while, Dumbledore stood again.

"The moment has come!" he called. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket." He gestured to the two newcomers. "First, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, head of the Department of International Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." He waited for the applause to die down, though most of it seemed to be for Bagman. "Mr. Bagman and Mt. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months of the arrangements of the Triwizard Tournament, and will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that judges the champion's efforts." There was a sudden hush at the word "champions." Dumbledore smiled.

"The casket, then, if you please." Filch approached Dumbledore, carrying a great, jewel-encrusted casket. He placed it reverently on the table in front of him, in full view of the entire Hall.

"There will be three Tasks, spaced throughout the year," Dumbledore called, "and they will test the champions in different ways; their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and their ability to cope with danger." Dumbledore paused for a moment, but no one spoke. "As you know, one champion will be chosen from each school, and they will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." With that, he tapped the casket on the lid. It creaked open, and a cup slowly rose from its depths as the base lifted. It was a roughly hewn wooden goblet that would have been completely unremarkable had it not been filled with blue fire.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the Goblet," Dumbledore continued. "Tomorrow, on Halloween, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy of competing. The Goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, and will be freely accessible to all who would wish to enter." He glanced briefly at the Weasley twins, who were grinning. "To ensure that no one who is underage will… ah… _yield to temptation_, I shall be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet. None under the age of seventeen will be able to enter."

His voice turned grim. "I want to impress one last thing upon all of you. Entrance is not to be taken lightly. If your name should come from the Goblet, you are magically bound to compete to the end. There is not turning back, so be _absolutely _certain that you are willing to compete before you enter." He smiled again. "Now, I think it is time for bed, off you go."

"An Age Line!" Fred said, smirking. "That the best Dumbledore can come up with? A few drops of Aging Potion should do it, don't you think George?"

"Yeah," his twin answered. "And once you're in the goblet, you're laughing, it can't tell if you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," Hermione said worriedly, "we just don't know enough…"

"Speak for yourself," George scoffed. "You'll go for it, won't you Harry?"

"No," Harry said bluntly. "And I don't think your plan will work. Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the world, he's sure to have thought of Aging Potions and taken measures to defeat them."

Fred and George simply rolled their eyes and continued on. Ron, meanwhile, was ignoring everything else and watching Krum. Karkaroff was gathering his students.

"Come on you lot, back to the ship…" They reached the door at the same time as the trio, and Harry stopped to let them through. "Thank you," Karkaroff muttered, before stopping. He turned to stare at Harry, his eyes flicking to his scar. The other Durmstrang students became interested as well, one boy even pointing at Harry's forehead.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," Moody said quietly, walking to stand beside Harry, glaring at Karkaroff, who paled.

"You…" he whispered.

"Me," Moody said grimly. "And unless you've got something to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move, you're blocking the door."

Karkaroff kept staring for a moment, before turning on his heel and leading his students away. Moody watched him go with a look of great dislike on his face.

* * *

><p>Early the next morning, Saturday, Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived in the Entrance Hall. There were a fair number of people already standing around, watching the Goblet. There was a thin golden line around it. Harry was waiting eagerly for Fred and George to arrive; he wanted to see what happened to those who failed the Age Line's test.<p>

"Anyone put their names in yet?" Ron asked eagerly. A third year glanced at him.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she answered. "And I heard a rumor that Warrington did last night."

"That's what I would have done," Harry said. "What if the cup just chucked your name right back out?"

Suddenly, laughter came from the stairs behind them. Harry turned to see Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying towards them, looking excited.

"Just done it!" Fred said eagerly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Done what?" Ron asked.

"Taken the Aging Potion, dung brains," George said.

"One drop each," Fred continued eagerly. "We only needed to be a few months older."

"We're going to spilt the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee finished.

"I don't think this is going to work…" Hermione said, but the twins ignored her.

"I'll go first." Fred said. Harry watched in amusement as he pulled out a slip of parchment bearing his name and stepped over the line.

Immediately, Harry knew whatever potion they had taken wasn't working, even though there was no visible indication that the Age Line was in effect. George eagerly jumped forward to join his twin. A second later, a flash of light knocked the twins out of the circle, dropping them unceremoniously ten feet away. A moment later, even more insult was added when they both grew white beards that reached their bellies.

The hall rang with laughter, and even Fred and George joined in once they saw their twin.

"I did warn you." Dumbledore said, smiling as he exited the Great Hall. His eyes twinkled as he studied the twins' beards. "I suggest you both go to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett and Mr. Summers, both of whom attempted to age themselves with and Aging Potion."

Harry laughed quietly as he led the way into the Great Hall for breakfast; he had seen everything he wanted to. After a few minutes, a cheer went up in the entrance hall, and Angelina Johnson, one of the Gryffindor Chasers, enters with a sheepish grin. Harry smiled; he hoped she got to be the Hogwarts champion.

"So, what are we going to do today?" Ron asked as the trio left the Hall. Harry was about to answer when another cheer came from the knot of people around the Goblet, and Harry glanced over in time to see Cedric Diggory stepping back over the Age Line. Ron scoffed slightly.

"We haven't seen Hagrid yet." Harry said quickly as Hermione opened her mouth to tell Ron off. She immediately brightened.

"That sounds like a great idea! I've been meaning to ask him about joining S.P.E.W." Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry sighed quietly. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

"When will she give up?" Ron asked as Hermione dashed away. Harry shrugged, before he felt something behind him. He turned back to the rest of the Entrance Hall.

"Hey, Ron," he said, trying to avoid snickering. "It's your friend."

The Beauxbatons students had just entered the hall, led by Madam Maxime. One by one, they stepped over the Age Line and placed a piece of parchment into the Goblet. After they were done, their Head ushered them back out.

After a few moments, Hermione returned, holding her box of S.P.E.W. badges, and the three headed out to Hagrid's hut. They passed the massive Beauxbatons horses, grazing peacefully in a makeshift enclosure. Harry walked past them and knocked on Hagrid's door, greeted as always by Fang's booming barks.

"'Bout time!" Hagrid said as he opened the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"

"Sorry, Hagrid, we've been really bu…" Hermione started, before trailing off, staring at Hagrid. He was wearing his best (and completely horrible) hairy brown suit, as well as a yellow and orange tie that hurt Harry's eyes. He had also, for reasons best known to himself, treated his hair with what looked like large quantities of axle grease. It was now slicked into two bunches, he might have been trying to make a ponytail like Bill, but had too much hair. The look… really didn't suit him.

Hermione obviously decided not to comment, instead asking lamely where the skrewts were.

"Out by the pumpkin patch." Hagrid said happily, and Harry noticed that his hands were bandaged, likely because of the skrewts. "They're really coming along, mus' be almost three foot now. On'y trouble is they've started killin' each other."

Harry privately thought that this was a very good thing. Hermione seemed to as well, but she took the tactful approach. "That's terrible!" she said, kicking Ron as he opened his mouth. "How many are left?"

"About twenty." Hagrid answered.

"Well, that's lucky," Ron muttered. Hagrid smiled at him, completely missing the sarcasm. Harry, realizing that his obliviousness would last only so long, quickly shifted the topic to the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed to be just as excited about it as everyone else was.

"You jus' wait!" he said happily. "Yer're going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. The first task…" he clamed up.

"What?" Harry asked, but Hagrid just smiled.

"Don' want ter spoil the surprise. But I'll tell yeh this, the champions're going ter have their work cut out for them."

The day passed in Hagrid's hut. Even though the lunch was less than stellar, especially when Hermione found a fang in hers, but Harry didn't care. He and the others were having more fun trying to get Hagrid to tell them more about the tournament. Hermione brought up S.P.E.W., but Hagrid wasn't having any of it.

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em." Hermione looked annoyed as she shoved the box of badges into her cloak, but Ron quickly dragged Hagrid back into a conversation about the Tournament.

Finally, at five thirty, the four got ready to head up to the castle for dinner and, more importantly, the choosing of the champions. Hagrid asked for a moment, and soon a horrible smell filled the hut.

"What is that?" Harry asked, choking slightly. Hagrid paused.

"Er… eau de cologne," he muttered, blushing. "Maybe it's a bit much. I'll go take it off, wait here." He stomped out the door, and a second later Harry heard the splash of Hagrid washing his face at the water bucket outside.

"Eau de cologne?" Hermione asked in confusion. "Why would he need…"

"Look!" Ron exclaimed, pointing around the window. Harry and Hermione turned just in time to see Hagrid hurrying over to Madam Maxime, who was leading her students towards the castle. They spoke for a moment before continuing.

"He fancies her!" Ron whispered in awe. "Well, if they end up having kids, they'll be setting a world record, bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."

Harry shook his head as he led the way back up to the castle. He just hoped Hagrid knew what he was doing; he was a good man, but sometimes a bit… impulsive.

The Great Hall was already full when they arrived. The conversation was almost entirely about the upcoming decision about the champions, a topic that was helped by the fact that the Goblet of Fire had been returned to the front of the Hall.

The feast seemed to take ages, though that was probably because the anticipation was so thick. Finally, the golden plates returned to a pristine state, and Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"The Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make its decision," he called, slowly walking around the Head Table to stand beside the Goblet. "When the champions' names are called, I would ask them to come forward and wait in the antechamber over their for their first instructions." With that, he waved his wand to extinguish all the candles save for the ones in the carved pumpkins, giving the Hall a mysterious air. The Goblet was now the brightest thing in the room, and it seemed to be growing brighter by the second.

Suddenly, just as mutters started being heard, the flames in the Goblet turned red, rising to new heights. As sparks started to fly, a tongue of flame came from the core of the Goblet, bearing a charred piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it as the flame returned to blue.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read in a deep voice, "will be Viktor Krum!"

A roar filled the hall as almost everyone started clapping and cheering. Krum walked coolly through the crowd to Dumbledore, who shook his hand and gestured to the antechamber.

"No surprises there." Ron said happily before turning back to the Goblet. After a moment, it turned red again, and delivered another piece of parchment to Dumbledore.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

"That's your friend, Ron!" Harry said over the roar of the crowd as the part-veela rose gracefully to her feet and flowed to the front of the Hall, nodding to Dumbledore before following Krum into the chamber off the hall. Everyone fell silent, waiting for the Hogwarts champion.

Finally, after a long moment, a third tongue of fire rose from the Goblet, and Dumbledore was reading out the final name.

"The Hogwarts champion. Cedric Diggory!"

"No!" Ron called, but he was completely drowned out by the Hufflepuffs, who stood as one, shouting at the top of their lungs and patting Cedric on the back as he passed. Finally, after shaking hands with Dumbledore, he left to join the other champions.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called over the last of the applause. "Now we have our three champions, and I trust that you will give them every ounce of support you can. Your cheers contribute a very real…"

He fell silent as the Goblet of Fire roared again, it's flames glowing red. A fourth tongue of fire rose from the heart of the wooden cup, bearing another piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it like he had the others, but didn't look at it immediately. He touched the Goblet briefly before glancing at Mr. Crouch and Bagman, who shrugged, looking as confused as everyone else. Finally, Dumbledore looked at the piece of parchment in his had. He went very still, blinking. He turned the parchment over several times, as if hoping that there was something else written on it. Finally, he read the name out in the coldest voice Harry had ever heard him use.

"_Harry Potter_."

'What?' Harry thought, stunned. This was all some sick joke. Any moment now, Dumbledore would start laughing and tell him that he was just having fun. This was absolutely impossible…

Everyone in the Hall was staring at Harry, and no one was saying a word. Meanwhile, at the Head Table, Professor McGonagall had rushed to Dumbledore's side and was whispering urgently in his ear.

Finally, Harry brought himself to turn his head slightly. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, who were staring at him.

"I didn't put my name in…" he whispered. "You know I didn't… I didn't…"

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on…" Hermione whispered, pushing Harry slightly. He rose unsteadily to his feet, walking numbly up to the front of the Hall. He dared not look at anyone else, as a buzz was beginning to fill the Hall. Finally, he reached Dumbledore. The Headmaster was watching him, unsmiling.

"Through the door, Harry," he said quietly. Harry nodded mechanically, walking through the door.

The three champions stood at the other end of the room, grouped around a roaring fire. Krum was leaning against the wall, lost in thought. Cedric seemed to be thinking too, though he was staring into the fire. Fleur, however, glanced up as Harry entered.

"What is it? Do zey want us back in the Hall?" Harry could only stare at them. How did one explain that the impossible had just happened?

He was saved this duty by the entrance of Ludo Bagman, who was looking both nervous and excited.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, gripping Harry's arm and pulling him closer to the others. "Absolutely extraordinary. Gentlemen and lady, may I introduce to you… incredible as it may sound, the fourth Triwizard Champion!" In a distant part of Harry's mind that wasn't working on autopilot, he wondered whether anyone noticed the irony of that sentence.

The other champions looked surprised. Krum pushed himself away from the wall, his face darkening. Cedric looked between Harry and Bagman, a confused smile on his face. Fleur, meanwhile, tossed her head and laughed.

"Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman…"

"Joke?" Bagman repeated. "No, this is no joke. Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire."

"Zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur said contemptuously. "'E is too young, 'e cannot compete!"

"Well, it is amazing," sad Bagman, stroking his chin and smiling at Harry. "But, you know, the age restriction was just another safety measure. And now that his name's come out of the Goblet, well, I don't think there's anything we can do about it, he's committed."

The door opened again, and a large group of people entered the room. Dumbledore led the way, followed by Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Snape.

Fleur immediately walked over to her headmistress. "Madame Maxime!" she said. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" Harry felt a flash of anger; he was not a _little boy_!

Madame Maxime, meanwhile, was drawing herself up to her full height. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said.

"I was rather wondering that myself." Karkaroff said snidely. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me that the host school got two champions. Or did I perhaps not read the rules closely enough?"

"_C'est impossible_!" Madame Maxine said furiously, her hand gripping Fleur's shoulder hard enough to make her wince slightly. Dumbledore opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Karkaroff.

"I was under the impression that your Age Line would keep the younger contestants out. Had we known otherwise, we would have brought a wider selection ourselves."

"It is no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," Snape said softly, smirking. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He's been crossing lines ever since he arrived here…"

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore cut in finally, and Snape went silent, though he continued to smirk. Dumbledore turned to Harry, staring into his eyes. Harry though he felt… something, but was too worried to pay attention.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked quietly.

"No, sir," Harry responded. He heard Snape snort in disbelief, but ignored him in favor of Dumbledore.

"Did you ask an older student to put it for you?" Dumbledore continued, also ignoring Snape.

"No, sir," Harry repeated.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime.

"He couldn't have crossed the Age Line," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "I am sure we can all agree on that…"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," Madame Maxime said.

"It is possible, of course," Dumbledore said politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" Professor McGonagall said furiously, and had he not been under investigation, Harry would have nodded. "Really, what nonsense!" Professor McGonagall continued. "Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, "you are our-er-objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman shrugged and looked to Mr. Crouch. The older man looked slightly eerie, standing just outside the firelight. When he finally spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, smiling around at everyone. No one else reciprocated.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said coldly. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire again, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions, it's only fair."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out, and it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament…"

"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Karkaroff roared. "After all, our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," Moody growled as he slipped into the room. "You can't leave your champion now, he's got to compete. They've all got to compete, even Potter. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

"Convenient?" Karkaroff said, trying to sound dismissive, though his clenched fists gave him away. "I don't know what you mean, old man."

"Don't you?" Moody said coldly, glaring at Karkaroff with his magical eye. "It's very simple. Someone put Potter's name in the Goblet, knowing that if he came out, and it seems they made sure he would, that he would be forced to compete."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wanted to gibe 'Ogwarts to bites at ze apple." Madame Maxime huffed.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," Karkaroff said, nodding to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards…"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," Moody growled. "But, funny thing, I don't hear him saying a word…"

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur Delacour asked, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our school's, ze thousand Galleons in prize money…"

"The chance to die a horrible death, especially for an underage wizard," Moody interrupted, his magical eye swiveling to glare at Fleur. Silence filled the room.

"Moody, old man… what a thing to say…" Bagman said weakly after a moment, rubbing his forehead. Karkaroff scoffed.

"Well, of course, we all know _Professor_ Moody considers a morning wasted unless he's found at least six plots to murder him before lunchtime. Apparently he's now branching out to his students…"

"Imagining things, am I?" Moody asked quietly, taking a step towards Karkaroff. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that cup…"

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Madame Maxime asked.

"Because they tricked a powerful magical object!" Moody hissed. "It would have taken a powerful Confundus Charm to bamboozle the goblet into forgetting that there are only three schools. They likely put Potter in under a fourth school, to guarantee that he came out."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought," Karkaroff said, waving his hand dismissively. "And it is a very ingenious theory… though, of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of you're birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll forgive us if we don't take you completely seriously…"

"It's my job to think like Dark Wizards, Karkaroff," Moody said, taking another step forward. "As you should well know…"

"Alastor!" Dumbledore said warningly. It took Harry a moment to realize that this must be Mad-Eye's name. Moody fell silent, but continued to smirk at Karkaroff, whose face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," Dumbledore said after a minute. "It seems to me, however, that we have little choice but to accept it. All four of these students have been chosen by the Goblet of Fire, all four are bound to compete."

"But Dumbly-dorr…"

"If you have an alternative, my dear Madam Maxime, I would be delighted to hear it." She fell silent, glaring at both Dumbledore and Harry.

"Well!" Bagman called, looking excited. "Shall we crack on, then? Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we Barty?"

Mr. Crouch glanced up from his contemplation of the floor.

"Oh, yes, the instructions." He stepped forward into the light, and Harry was surprised to see that he looked ill. There were dark shadows below his eyes that indicated he hadn't been sleeping well, and his skin looked papery. His voice remained strong, however.

"The first task will test your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in any wizard. The task will take place on November the twenty-fourth. You are only permitted to bring your wand, and are forbidden from asking or accepting any help from teachers." He paused to take a breath. "After the First Task, you will receive information about the second. Owing to the demanding nature of the tournament, all champions will be exempt from end of year tests."

"I think that's all, Barty," Dumbledore said, watching Mr. Crouch with concern. "Are you sure you won't be staying at Hogwarts tonight?"

"I must get back to the Ministry," Mr. Crouch said quickly, moving towards the door. "Busy times. I left young Weatherby in charge… must see how he's doing." He left, followed by Bagman, who seemed to be trying to get him to reconsider. The other Heads, meanwhile, were leading their champions away. Fleur and Madame Maxime were speaking quietly in French while Krum and Karkaroff walked in silence.

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you head up to bed," Dumbledore said gently, still looking after Mr. Crouch. Finally, he turned to them and smiled. "I'm sure Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are eagerly waiting for the chance to celebrate."

'Over what?' Harry thought grumpily, but he nodded politely to Dumbledore and left the room with Cedric. They walked through the empty Hall in silence.

"So," Cedric said with a forced smile. "Seems like we're competing again."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, not looking at the older boy.

"So… tell me," Cedric said, stopping them at the foot of the marble stairs in the Entrance Hall. "How did you get your name in the goblet?"

Harry felt a flash of anger. "Weren't you paying attention? _I didn't_."

"Ah, Ok," Cedric said after a moment, though it was painfully obvious that he didn't believe Harry. With that, he turned and headed through a small door on the right. Harry watched him go before slowly heading up towards the Gryffindor tower.

Would anyone besides Ron and Hermione believe him? Unlikely. Precious few had believed that he was not the Heir of Slytherin in his second year, and that had been even more ridiculous.

He hissed in frustration. How had he gotten into the Goblet? Moody was right, only a powerful witch or wizard could have put him in. Did that mean he was right about the rest of his theory as well? Who would want to kill him?

'Well, that's an easy question,' he thought grimly as he arrived on the seventh floor. 'Voldemort's wanted me dead ever since I was born.' But how had Voldemort pulled this off, he was supposed to be all but powerless.

Then, the memory of the dream he had had before the World Cup returned to him. Voldemort had indicated there was a plan in the working for Harry's death, that all he needed was a faithful servant at Hogwarts. Was that plan in motion?

He was interrupted in his musings by his arrival at the portrait of the Fat Lady. She wasn't alone; one of the people from a portrait in the room he and the other champions had been briefed in.

"Well, well, well," the Fat Lady said, smiling down at him. "Violet's just told me everything. Who's been chosen as school champion, then?"

"Balderdash," Harry muttered, he wasn't in the mood.

"It most certainly isn't!" the other witch said indignantly.

"No, that's the password, Vi," the Fat Lady said soothingly as she swung forward on concealed hinges.

The blast of noise that emanated from the common room almost knocked Harry off his feet. Before he could react, he was being seized by dozens of arms and dragged into the room. It seemed like the entire Gryffindor house had stayed up to meet him, and they were all cheering at the top of their lungs.

"You should have told us you were entering!" Fred called, looking both happy and hurt at the same time.

"Yeah!" George continued, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulder. "How did you avoid getting a beard, huh?"

"I didn't enter!" Harry said, trying to pry himself from George's grip. "I don't…"

But no one was listening. Angelina had just fought her way through the crowd. "Oh, if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor…" Harry found this incredibly frustrating; it was as if Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

At least one person remembered the other champion. "Now you can pay Diggory back for beating us in that last Quidditch match!" Katie Bell called, raising the glass of butterbeer she was holding in a toast.

"Come on, Harry, we've got lots of food…"

"I'm not hungry!" Harry called, finally escaping George's arm and trying to push his way towards the stairs. "Please…" But he was cut off again, this time by the Creevy brothers.

"What's the first task, Harry?" they called, shoving a bowl of crisps into his hands. The cry was taken up by the rest of the house. So it continued for almost five minutes, alternating between questions on how he entered the tournament and what it was like being Champion. Harry tried again and again to tell them that he hadn't done it, he didn't know, it wasn't him, but no one listened.

Finally, after five minutes, Harry snapped. As Lee Jordan wrapped a massive Gryffindor banner around him like a cloak, Harry realized that being polite wasn't getting him anywhere.

**"ENOUGH!"** he roared. Had he not been so angry and frustrated, he would have been surprised by the effect of this simple act. The banner flew from his shoulders, and several nearby people stumbled back; tiny Dennis Creevy was literally knocked off his feet. A hush fell over the common room. Harry stalked through the crowd, watching them scatter before him like leaves to the gale. He arrived at the nearest table and easily jumped up, scattering the food and drink that had been laid upon it.

"Now, I am going to make this perfectly clear!" Harry called, glaring around at the faces of his housemates, all drawn in rapped attention. He thought he saw fear in several faces, but didn't think much on it. It was time to put an end to this nonsense. "I. Did. Not. Put. My. Name. In. The. Goblet. Of. Fire." He bit each word off.

"Then how did it get…" a sixth year started, his voice was wavering slightly. Harry's head snapped to him, and he took an involuntary step backwards, trodding on the toes of the girl behind him.

"No one knows," Harry said coldly, still glaring at the older boy. "The only theory was provided by Professor Moody, and he thinks it's someone trying to kill me…" A ripple passed through the common room at those words.

"Come off it, mate," Fred said weakly. "Who'd want to kill you?" Harry ignored him.

"… and since no one, not even Professor Dumbledore, could come up with a better one, you'll excuse me for not being ecstatic over being forced into a tournament that might result in my death."

"But they said that this tournament would be safe…" Lee said.

"Yes, and one of those safety measures was that no one under the age of seventeen would be able to enter," Harry bared his teeth. "Look how well _that_ worked out." No one had an answer for that. "Now, _if_ you don't mind, I'm going to bed." With that, Harry hopped off the table and walked to the stairs leading to the boy's dormitories, once again scattering everyone in his path. Soon, after going up the spiral staircase and entering his dormitory, he was face to face with Ron, who watched him nervously.

"People here will believe anything," Harry muttered in frustration, kicking his trunk moodily as he passed. He looked at Ron, who was lying on his own bed, staring at Harry.

"You… feeling alright?" the redhead asked. Harry stared at him for a moment, before sighing and putting his head in his hands.

"I'm doing the weird glowing thing again, right?" Through his fingers, he saw Ron nod. "Brilliant. Just _fantastic_. Now they must think I'm a dangerous lunatic as well as a liar and a cheat." Closing his eyes, Harry took several deep breaths, forcing his rage down. Silence filled the room.

"So, you still don't know what that is?" Ron asked warily. Harry shook his head.

"No clue," Harry muttered. He glanced at his friend again. The other boy hadn't moved, and was still looking nervous. "It's Ok, Ron. Whatever it is, it's gone now." He chuckled dryly. "Besides, I'm not likely to blow up at one of the only people who believes me." It took Harry a moment to realize that Ron had a strange smile on his face. "What's wrong?"

Ron stared at Harry for a moment. "So… was that what got you over the Age Line?" Harry stared at him.

"You… don't mean that, do you Ron?" he asked desperately. Ron believed him; he _had to_!

"How else would you get in?" Ron asked, turning his head to stare at the canopy of his bed. "I guess you didn't want the others to know, but you could admit it to me at least."

"I didn't put my name it!" Harry hissed, rising to his feet. "Someone else must have!"

"Who? Why?" Ron asked simply.

"I don't know!" Harry growled. He felt the same anger that had driven him in the common room beginning to rise again. "Listen…"

"Sorry to keep you up," Ron said loudly, cutting Harry off. "You should get to bed, don't you have to go to photo-call or something tomorrow." With that, he leaned over and jerked his hangings shut.

Harry stood helplessly, staring at the curtains that hid one of the few people he had been sure would believe him. Blood pounding in his ears, he reached forward to rip them aside and continue his argument, but he forced his hand down. Mentally cursing, he stalked over to his own bed and lay down, not bothering to change.

* * *

><p>Harry's sleep was once more disturbed as his dreams were filled with thoughts not his own. Scenes flashed before his eyes too fast to recognize. The voices, however, were once more painfully clear.<p>

"_Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and DO NOT FALTER_," a maniacal voice screamed.

Another responded in a broken whisper. "_Why don't they just drown us as infants? Why give us the illusion of hope_?"

Harry tried to reach out, tried to find the source of these voices. Soon, however, the pain drove him from his dreams and into the waking world. He glanced at his hand, which was still fully extended. Lines of blue fire curled around it like scars, but faded before he could look closer.

"What has happened to me?" Harry whispered, shaking his head. The voices in his head were not kind enough to answer. Cursing under his breath, he poked his head through the curtains. The sun wasn't even up yet, but Harry knew that even if, somehow, he did manage to get back to sleep, he would just be woken up again. He quietly changed his cloths, careful not to wake any of the other boys. After he was finished, he grabbed his Invisibilty Cloak and slipped downstairs, not wanting to be disturbed.

The common room hadn't been cleaned up, there were still bits of food and other debris scattered around. Harry sighed as he walked over to his favorite armchair and sat down, wrapping the Cloak around himself. Normally he could at least stay asleep until dawn, but the pain and the visions had been much more powerful this night.

Harry was now convinced that, whatever it was that was causing his nightmares, it was connected with the mysterious glow. He then turned his thoughts to where that had come from. He had never felt anything like it before this year… before he had found Anders…

That was the key; that was the beginning. Somehow, in his last second of life, Anders had done… something. By the looks of it, he had passed on memories, which Harry was now seeing in his sleep. But why, why had Anders done it? Had it been on purpose, or had it been a mistake? And what was the glow? Memories wouldn't explain that…

He was interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the girl's staircase. Harry automatically twitched the cloak to ensure that he was completely covered. A moment later, Hermione and Ginny Weasley stepped quietly into the common room.

"Sorry to wake you, Ginny," Hermione said quietly as they sat down across from Harry. He tried to get up without being noticed, but realized that there was enough paper scattered around that any movement would be heard, and he couldn't go over the arm without exposing himself. He was stuck. "I was just going to wait to talk to some house elves when they came to clean up the mess, get my mind off things."

"I was awake anyways," Ginny said quietly. "I… I have lots on my mind as well."

"Like what?" Hermione asked gently.

"… Last night, I guess," Ginny said. "Did you get a chance to… talk to Harry? I didn't see you after we got back to the common room."

"No," Hermione said. "I go so fed up with all the people waiting to cheer for his supposed success in getting past the Age Line." She glanced at Ginny. "What happened? Lavender and Parvati looked pretty nervous when they came up, and they wouldn't talk about what happened."

"Well, Harry arrived, and everyone started yelling and carrying on. I could barely hear him, but he seemed to be trying to tell everyone that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet." Ginny snorted quietly. "Of course, no one listened to him. Eventually he just… lost his temper…" Ginny's voice fell to a whisper. "Remember about a month ago, near the start of school, there was that rumor that he started glowing…"

"That wasn't a rumor, Ginny," Hermione said gently. "I was there, it actually happened. Well, most of it. He didn't turn Malfoy into a ferret and bounce him around the hall, but he did knock Malfoy down."

"I guessed as much," Ginny said. "Well… he did it again. It was… it was scary." Her breath caught, and Harry felt a small surge of guilt, he hadn't meant to scare anyone, just make them listen. "One moment, he was completely obscured, the next, it was impossible _not_ to see him, he was glowing so much. It was his eyes that glowed the most, though. It was like there were two blue suns where his eyes should be." She took a deep breath. "And when he spoke, telling everyone in no uncertain terms that he didn't put his name in that stupid cup, it was like there were two voices. There was his voice, then something… else… underneath."

Hermione listened quietly, chewing her lip slightly. "I know what you mean, Ginny," she said at last. "When Harry did it to Malfoy, it was surreal. One moment, he was pulling Ron away, trying to avoid a fight. The next, he had his wand on Malfoy. He did it like he had done it a million times before." She sighed. "I don't know. While I was working on S.P.E.W., I spent some time trying to figure out what it was. I couldn't find anything." She glanced towards the boy's dormitories. "I'm wondering if I should talk to Professor McGonagall. I'm defiantly going to suggest that Harry does." Harry rolled his eyes slightly, of course Hermione would think to involve authority figures. Hermione then turned back to Ginny. "What did he have to say?"

"Well, he said that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet," Ginny responded. "Then he said that Professor Moody had a theory that his name had been put in as part of a plan to kill him."

The two sat in silence for a moment longer before Ginny continued. "I wonder how much of a bother my stupid brother has been." Harry was slightly surprised by how vehement her voice was.

"Ron will come around," Hermione said. "He… he's just…"

"Being a prat?" Ginny snarled. "He's known Harry since first year, how could he think that Harry would put his own name in? Even _I_ know he wouldn't do that, and we never speak, since I can't in front of him!"

'Oh the irony of that sentence…' Harry thought. Still, it was good to know that there were at least two people who believed him.

The two girls remained silent for a moment longer. "Well," Ginny said finally. "Thanks for listening, Hermione. I guess I should try to get some sleep. You probably should too." Hermione shook her head.

"Thanks, but I'll stay here awhile." Ginny nodded before rising and heading back up the spiral staircase to the girls' dormitories. Hermione leaned back, sighing.

After a moment, Harry couldn't take the silence anymore and lowered the hood of the Invisibility Cloak. Hermione jumped.

"_Harry!_" she squeaked, "How long have you been there?"

"This whole time," Harry said. "I couldn't sleep either." He shrugged. "There was too much mess in here for me to leave quietly."

Hermione nodded. "That's… understandable, I guess." She watched him. "Are you feeling alright?" She shook her head as Harry opened his mouth. "Sorry, that was poorly worded. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Well, knowing that there are some people who believe me is nice."

Hermione sighed. "You're talking about Ron, right?" Harry nodded sullenly. "Harry, I don't think he really believes that you put your name in…"

"Certainly had me fooled," Harry muttered.

"Oh, Harry, can't you see? He's jealous!" Harry stared at her.

"_Jealous?_ Are you mental? Does he want to be killed or humiliated in front of the entire school?" Hermione flinched.

"Please don't say that, Harry." She shook her head. "Look, it's always you who gets the attention, gets the adoration. I know it's not your fault!" she said quickly as Harry opened his mouth. "But you know it's true. And look at Ron, he has all those siblings at home, and he's your best friend. Wherever he goes, he's being forced to compete for recognition. He hasn't complained before, but I guess that this was just one time to many…"

Harry snorted. "I'd switch any day! He can have people staring at his scar, the scar he got because his parents were murdered!"

"I know, Harry," Hermione said, raising a hand soothingly. "And it's not rational. That's the whole problem, he's not really thinking about it."

The two sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Hermione spoke again. "Look, Harry, you know what I was talking about with the… glowing…"

"Yes, and the answer is no," Harry cut in. "I'd rather not have Professor McGonagall thinking I'm crazy too."

"Then talk to Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione whispered. "I'm sure that he can help…"

"Hermione, I can handle it," Harry said firmly. "It's not that bad…"

"Now," Hermione interrupted. "But who knows what will happen in the future. I think it best if we get it treated as soon as possible."

"No," Harry said simply. Hermione sighed.

"Very well, Harry, I'll let it go, _for now_." She then reached over and grabbed a piece of parchment. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about. I think you should write to Sirius about the Triwizard Tournament. He told you to keep him posted on what happened at Hogwarts."

"That's an even worse idea!" Harry hissed. "He came back to the country because my scar twinged a bit. If he heard that I was entered into the tournament, he'd probably come bursting into the school itself…"

"I don't think so, he's not stupid," Hermione said bracingly. "Besides, he's going to find out anyways."

"How?" Harry asked.

"Harry, you're famous, and the Triwizard Tournament's famous. The press isn't going to keep quiet. He'd want to hear it from you." Harry sighed.

"Ok, I'll write to him." Harry took the parchment and quill Hermione offered and scribbled a quick letter, outlining what had happened. He was also sure to let Sirius know that he was in no immediate danger. Finally, he put the quill down and set the parchment on his knee to dry.

"You be sure to send that first thing in the morning," Hermione said firmly. "Now, you should really get some sleep. I have a feeling you're going to need every bit of strength you can get in the coming days."

_AN_: I've been wondering whether I should do some sections from a point of view other than Harry's, tell me what you think. Other than that, I hope you enjoy and review, the feedback is greatly appreciated.


	5. The Bigger They are the Harder They Fall

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative than I am. I am in no way profiting from this story.

Reviewer Response:

Laird Hadrian Gilus: Wow, thanks for the generous review! I must admit, I had never thought of Harry/Fleur before. I'll consider it, but I can't promise anything other that that I will seek to continue meeting the standard you say I've reached.

Saika Renegade: That's the problem with crossovers, they can either work brilliantly or fail horribly.

Maben11: The story was always going to be mostly from Harry's view, I was just considering the occasional jaunt in someone else's head.

Devilaire Mshadi: I'll keep your suggestion in mind, glad you like the story.

Andrew MacKenzie: That's a probable point of view, though not for a while.

candinaru25: There's a Harry Potter/Dragon Age game : ). Seriously, Dragon Age 2 isn't quite as good as Origins, but it's not bad.

crazyjim87: She was very young, she gets better over time. What ten/eleven year old hasn't idolized someone?

KafeiDetour: Thank you for your support : )

raw666: I have a plan for the dragon, as you will see (smirk). I always thought that magic was thought based; the words were just used to shape and control it. Wizards can cast magic nonverbally, though it isn't done until sixth year.

Chapter 4: The Bigger They Are, the Harder They Fall

Harry found himself sorely tested over the next two weeks. After he had sent the letter to Siruis (alienating Hedwig because he didn't use her), he had promised himself that, no matter what people said or did to him, he would not let his anger get away with him like he had in the Gryffindor common room.

He had not counted on the sheer animosity directed at him by the rest of the school. The Gryffindors were still tiptoeing around him, obviously worried that he would blow up at them again. The rest of the school, for their part, was determined to punish him for daring to become the second Hogwarts champion.

Harry could understand why the Hufflepuffs were doing it; Cedric was their shining star. They rarely got much glory, and when they did it was generally Cedric that got it. For his triumph to be dampened in any way, especially by Harry, was an incredibly bitter pill to take. This did not make it any easier for Harry to face their cold anger every time they saw him. Even Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff, was acting frosty towards the whole of Gryffindor house.

The Slytherins' attitude was also easy to explain; they had hated Harry for ages, and any excuse to give him a hard time was welcome with them. Potions was becoming a sort of torture, with Snape ignoring the increasingly blatant verbal attacks on Harry, while making it clear that if Harry even thought about retaliating, he would be severely punished.

It was the Ravenclaws that annoyed Harry the most, other than Ron. They were supposed to be the house of intelligence, and Harry had thought that if anyone were able to look past their initial reaction and realize all the gaping holes in the "Harry Potter put himself in the Goblet" theory, it would be them. However, at this test they failed spectacularly, treating with the same distain as the rest of the school.

There were several holdouts, however. Hagrid took Harry aside the first Care of Magical Creatures class and gently told him that he believed both Harry and Dumbledore. Fred and George came to Harry the next day at dinner, quietly asking him to forgive them for inadvertently insulting him. Harry suspected Ginny might have had something to do with this, he had seen her talking to them at lunch. Hermione also remained a constant bastion of support. Still, despite those believers, Harry found himself struggling with the same rage that had gripped him that night on a daily basis.

Harry soon found himself taking solace in his classes, something he knew Ron would have scoffed at if he had been talking to Harry. However, Harry had found that he liked books; they didn't judge him, didn't hiss as he passed. This led to a bit of a shock next Friday, when he was actually the _first_ person to get the Summoning Charm right, even before Hermione.

"That went well, didn't it Harry?" Hermione asked as the pair headed towards the dungeons for Potions. Harry snorted; Ron had spent the whole class ignoring Harry, even though they had been sitting within a meter of each other. After that, he found it much harder to see anything in a positive light. Hermione sighed.

"Just go _talk_ to him!" she muttered. "It's obvious you miss him, try to patch things up."

"I can't make him grow up," Harry snarled. "If he's too blind to see what is right before his eyes, then I don't need him."

"Yes you do, Harry," Hermione said. "If you didn't, his animosity wouldn't bother you so much." Harry ignored her, even though he knew she was right. The pair followed Ron down the steps into the cold dungeons, where they met the Slytherins. They were gathered in their normal groups, laughing to each other. It took Harry a moment to realize that they were all wearing identical badges, with red words glowing:

SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY, THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

"Like them, Potter?" Malfoy called, smirking as he noticed Harry and Hermione standing away from the other Gryffindors. "That isn't all they do, take a look at this!" With those words, he tapped the badge, and the letters changed to a lime green and read:

POTTER STINKS!

"Oh, very funny!" Hermione hissed coldly as the rest of the Slytherins followed suit, and POTTER STINKS flashed throughout the corridor. "How _witty_!" Harry risked a glance at Ron. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't moving to defend Harry either.

"You want one, Granger?" Malfoy asked, holding a badge out. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hands, I just washed them, so I don't want any Mudblood filth on them."

Harry felt his anger burn again. He could take insults and slights to himself, but Hermione was his friend. He was not going to stand for her to be attacked as well. He drew his wand, ignoring Hermione's plea to stand down.

"Take that back."

"Or what, Potter?" Malfoy asked coldly, drawing his own wand. "You going to curse me? Moody's not here to bail you out this time." At that moment, Harry didn't care.

"One last chance. Take that insult back or I will make you." Malfoy scoffed.

"Come on then, Potter. Let's see what you've got." The mocking tone drove Harry over the edge.

"_Flipendo_!" he hissed.

"_Densaugeo_!" Malfoy called at the same moment.

Harry's spell was faster, it's normal orange color shot with blue. It blew through Malfoy's spell like nothing, tossing the arrogant Slytherin into one of his bodyguards. Malfoy's spell was reflected, knocking Hermione back a step. Silence filled the corridor, and Harry realized that the wall next to him was illuminated by a bluish light. Cursing under his breath, Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, forcing his rage down.

"Hermione!" Ron called suddenly, rushing forward. Harry turned, slightly surprised to see her clutching her mouth, a panic-stricken look on her face. Ron pulled her hands away from her face. Her front teeth, always a bit bigger than they should have been, were growing at an alarming rate, to the point where she already looked a bit like a beaver. She let out a terrified cry, and Snape chose that moment to arrive on the scene.

"What is going on here?" he asked in a deadly voice.

"Potter attacked me, sir!" Malfoy cried, trying to sound scared.

"We attacked each other," Harry cut in. Snape ignored him, walking over to Malfoy. The blonde git was still holding his stomach, acting as if the simple Knockback Jinx was a deadly strike at his vitals.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron called, dragging her forward. Her teeth were now reaching her collar, making it impossible for her to hide them. Snape studied her, smirking.

"I see no difference."

Hermione gasped, tears streaming down her face as she turned and fled back up the stairs, probably headed towards the Hospital Wing. Harry felt his wrath rising again, but chose to vent it verbally, no matter how much he wanted to toss Snape around the dungeon with magic. Ron seemed to have the same idea, and their voices drowned each other out as they echoed around the hall. Snape probably didn't understand what exactly they were saying (which was good) but he got the gist.

"Enough," he snarled. "Fifty points from Gryffindor from each of you, as well as a detention. An extra fifty points from you, Potter, for attacking Mr. Malfoy. Now, get inside, everyone."

Harry seethed silently as he sat down by himself, POTTER STINKS flashing around him. He was struggling desperately with the desire to bring the dungeon ceiling down on Snape, then Malfoy. He reasoned that murder was frowned upon, so he should refrain. Besides, he might destabilize the entire castle, the way his luck was going.

"Antidotes!" Snape called as he swept to the front of the class. "You all should have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting one of you to test them…" His eyes lingered on Harry, an unpleasant smile on his face. Harry decided that if Snape tried to poison him, he was fighting back, trouble or no. He wasn't going to let that overgrown bat murder him.

He was rescued from these thoughts, however, by a knock on the door. It was Colin Creevey.

"Yes?" Snape asked silkily, keeping his eyes on Harry.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs," Colin said bravely.

"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete, he can leave when class is over," Snape said, glaring at Colin, who remained unflinching.

"Sir, Mr. Bagman wants him, it's for the Tournament." At those words, a hiss passed through the room.

"Very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your bag. I expect you back here later to test your antidote…"

"Sir, I think he's supposed to bring his things," Colin cut in, glancing at Harry.

"Fine!" Snape hissed. "Potter, take your things and get out of my sight!" Harry swiftly complied, rushing out of the dungeon with Colin.

"Thanks for that, Colin," Harry muttered, glancing back. Colin looked ecstatic that Harry had deigned to speak to him. They walked in silence for a few minutes.

"Well, good luck, Harry!" Colin said as he pointed to the door. Harry shrugged before entering. All the other champions were already there, Krum holding his traditional position away from the others, while Fleur and Cedric spoke quietly. Bagman was speaking quietly with a woman Harry didn't know, while another man with a camera was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye. Bagman glanced up at the sound of the door opening and noticed Harry.

"Ah!" he called, rising to his feet. "Here is our fourth champion!" He rushed forward, followed by the woman. "Harry, I would like you to meet Rita Skeeter, a reporter from the Daily Prophet. The other judges are upstairs at the moment, meeting with the man who will be checking your wand." Harry opened his mouth, but Bagman continued. "This is the Weighing of the Wands. It serves to ensure that your wand is in perfect condition as well as give the champions some time to get used to their new role, what with the photo-shoot and all."

Harry thought that it would take more than some stupid ceremony to get him used to his "new role," but he didn't have a chance to comment before Rita interrupted.

"I was wondering if I could have a little word with Harry before we start, since we have time."

"Of course!" Bagman said happily. "That is, if Harry has no objections."

Harry was about to tell them that he _did_ have a problem, he remembered what Mr. Weasley had said about Rita. However, Rita was faster, dragging him off with at quick "Lovely." A moment later, Harry found himself in a broom cupboard.

"You don't mind if I use a Quick Quote Quill do you?"

"A what?" Harry asked. He was answered when Rita Skeeter drew an acid-green quill out of her crocodile skin handbag. She then placed it on a piece of parchment.

"Testing, my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Reporter." Immediately, the quill started writing.

_ Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, whose savage quill has punctured man inflated reputations_.

"Lovely," Rita Skeeter said again, tearing off that part of the parchment and putting it away. She then turned her attention to Harry. "So, Harry, what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"

"I…" Harry started, before his denial was cut off by the fact that the quill was already moving.

_An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter, whose eyes… _

"Ignore the quill, Harry," Rita Skeeter said firmly. "Now, why did you enter the tournament?"

"I didn't," Harry said firmly. "I did not put my name in the Goblet of Fire."

Rita Skeeter raised an eyebrow delicately. "Oh, Harry, you don't have to worry about getting in trouble. We all know you shouldn't have entered, but you don't need to worry about that, our readers love a rebel."

"I'm serious. I didn't put my name in." Once again, however, Harry might as well have remained silent.

"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" Rita Skeeter asked keenly.

"I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out how I got in." Never let it be said that Harry was not persistent.

"Champions have died in the past, Harry," Rita said. "Have you thought about that?"

"Yes, I thought about that, and it's one of the reasons I didn't enter." 'Is this woman even speaking the same language I am?'

"So, Harry, you've faced danger before. Do you think the trauma of your past made you want to prove yourself, live up to your name?"

"No," Harry said bluntly. Rita Skeeter shook her head.

"Do you remember your parents at all? What do you think they would be thinking, what with you in the Triwizard Tournament?"

Harry was so tempted to give a partially truthful answer, that he remembered his parents' voices, as they tried desperately to dissuade Voldemort from killing him. He glanced at the parchment.

_Tears fill those startling green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents he can barely remember..._

"I'm not crying," Harry said in a deadly voice, his anger rising again.

Rita Skeeter opened her mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted when the door opened suddenly. Harry looked gratefully up at Albus Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, quickly stuffing the Quick Quote Quill into her bag and holding a hand out to shake Dumbledore. He smiled slightly and accepted.

"As much fun as I'm sure you're both having, I'm afraid we need Harry out here." Harry swiftly moved away from Rita and back to the rest of the champions. Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were also in the room, and Harry jerk slightly at the sight of Mr. Ollivander, the wandmaker. He must be the one who was going to test their wands.

"If everyone is here, I would like to begin," he said in that strange voice, stepping into the center of the room. "Mademouiselle Delacour, if you would?" Fleur swept over to him and handed over her wand. He twirled it gently through his fingers, tracing the odd marking along the shaft as well as the hook at the base.

"Nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood," he said after a moment. "Though the core…"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur said, smiling in a manner Harry hadn't seen previously. "On of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes," Mr. Ollivander said, still studying the wand. "I never use veela hairs myself, but I suppose the connection…" Finally, he muttered a word Harry didn't hear and conjured a bunch of flowers. "It is in fine working order." He handed both the wand and the flowers to Fleur before beckoning Cedric forward.

"Yes, this is one of mine," Mr. Ollivander said warmly, taking the wand in his hands, tracing the point where the wood turned from brown to black. "Yes, I remember it well. A single unicorn hair, twelve and a quarter inches… ash, springy." He studied it closely. "I see you treat it regularly."

"Polished it last night," Cedric said, grinning.

"Indeed…" Finally, he shot a jet of smoke from the wand and handed it back to Cedric. "Mr. Krum, if I may?"

Krum handed his oddly curved wand to Mr. Ollivander before putting his hands in his pockets.

"Hornbeam, and a… dragon heartstring?" Mr. Ollivander asked, and Krum nodded. He seemed oddly uncomfortable. "Thicker than normal, but… _Avis_!" A few birds flew from the tip of the wand and out the window. "Good, so that leaves… Mr. Potter."

Harry walked forward self-consciously, handing Mr. Ollivander his wand. The man's face broke out in a smile.

"Aaaah, yes," he said, tracing the rough patch right above the hilt. "Yes, I remember this wand well…"

Harry watched, hoping that Mr. Ollivander wouldn't mention that his wand shared a core with Voldemort's, a phoenix feather. He had a feeling that Rita Skeeter wouldn't do anything nice with that bit of information.

Mr. Ollivander seemed to agree with him, because he only briefly mentioned that the wand had a phoenix core. He spent a much longer time studying this wand, glancing at Harry curiously several times. Finally, however, he cast as fountain of wine and pronounced the wand in perfect condition.

The photo-shoot took much longer than it should have. Madame Maxime kept casting everyone in shadow, until the photographer finally had her sit while everyone else stood around her. There was also a minor debate over who should be in front, the photographer wanted Fleur, and Rita Skeeter kept putting Harry there. Finally, after several individual shots, they were allowed to leave. Krum, who had skulked in the back the whole time, was gone almost as soon as the words were out of Professor Dumbledore's mouth, with Harry not far behind.

When he finally returned to the Gryffindor common room, he walked resolutely past everyone to his dormitory, since there was no sign of Hermione.

"You have an owl," Ron said as Harry entered. "We've got our detention with Snape tomorrow night, in the dungeon." With that, he swiftly rose to his feet and left, brushing past Harry as if he wasn't there. Harry's fists clenched, and the door in front of him acted as a temporary mirror for his rage as blue light shone on it. Forcing his anger down again, he turned to the owl. It was from Sirius.

_Harry -_

_I can__'__t say everything I would like to in a letter, it__'__s too risky in case the owl is intercepted -__we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o__'__clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?__I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself__and while you__'__re around Dumbledore and Moody I don__'__t think anyone will be able to hurt you.__However, someone seems to be having a good try.__Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore__'__s nose.__Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can._

_Sirius_

* * *

><p>The thought of talking to Sirius was the only thing that sustained Harry for the next fortnight. As the First Task drew closer, the fear of what he would be facing mounted. The continued animosity of the school did not help matters in the slightest.<p>

To make matters even worse, Hermione dragged Harry aside two days after the Weighing of the Wands.

"I thought you said you could control it," she said quietly.

"What?" Harry asked, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"The glowing. You did it again," Hermione watched him. "Harry, please, I want to help you, but I just don't know what has happened. I really think it's best if you talk to someone about it. It's getting worse."

"No its…" Harry started.

"Harry, I'm not blind," Hermione said quietly. "Even when you're eyes don't look like suns, I can see flashes of rage there. Whatever it is, it's getting harder for you to control, I can tell."

"I can handle it, Hermione," Harry said firmly. "Why don't we…"

"No, Harry," Hermione cut in. "We've waited long enough. I really think that you should go to Professor Dumbledore."

"And what do I say?" Harry hissed. "_Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore, I glow at inopportune times. Know anything to deal with that_?" Hermione was silent. "Hermione… I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I can handle it. Please, let it go. Or are you going to go and tell on me?"

"…No," she said finally. "You should, though."

Things grew even worse when the article on the Triwizard Tournament came out. Rather than being about the Tournament, it was a highly detailed, and entirely fictitious, story of Harry's life. There might have been _one paragraph_ on Fleur and Krum, and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

Harry still felt a sick sense of rage and shame as he thought of some of the worst quotes "_Yes, sometimes I still cry about my parents… Harry has at last found love in Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl…" _He was reminded constantly by various bypassers, all of whom had various sneers and quotes to throw at him. The Slytherin's badges were also a big hit, with members of all the houses save Gryffindor wearing them. Harry could remember a time when the other houses had been gleeful at Slytherin's defeat in the House Cup competition, which Harry had helped bring about.

'Oh, the shifting times,' Harry thought sardonically as he watched a pair of Ravenclaws test out their new badges.

Even the library, which had become something of a refuge for Harry, was no longer safe. Viktor Krum could often be found there, a fact that annoyed Hermione to no end, because his fan club followed him everywhere.

"He's not even that good looking," she hissed. "They're only after him because he's famous. They wouldn't look twice if he couldn't do that Wonky Faint thing." Harry didn't bother correcting her.

It was for these reasons that Harry was glad to get out of the castle on the twenty second and go to Hogsmeade. He refused to go, however, unless he had his Invisibility Cloak.

"I feel stupid talking to you like this," Hermione muttered as they sat at a corner table of the Three Broomsticks, pretending to look over a S.P.E.W notebook. "Surely you can take that off for a few minutes, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Rita Skeeter," Harry muttered, watching the reporter. She was speaking with the photographer who had been at the Weighing of the Wands. Harry felt his hand clench the butterbeer bottle in his hand, rather wishing it was the reporter's neck.

"Right," Hermione moaned, looking over her shoulder. "She would want to be here for the First Task, wouldn't she?"

Harry felt a thrill of fear pass through him. He had been trying to not think about the upcoming task. The fact that he had no clue what was expected of him was the main problem. If he had some inkling, some clue…

He glanced at the door just in time to see Ron enter with Fred and George. The redhead glanced over at Hermione, then his eyes drifted to Harry, even though he couldn't see him. He gave no sign that he had recognized Harry's presence, walking with the twins to the counter. Following his former friend with his eyes, Harry was surprised to note that Hagrid was in the Three Broomsticks as well. Harry had been so worried and miserable that he hadn't noticed the massive man. Moody would have been disappointed.

And speak of the devil, there was Moody right there, talking to Hagrid. He was still drinking out of his hip flask to avoid poisoning, a fact which seemed to annoy Madam Rosmerta, the landlady, to no end. After a moment, the pair seemed to have enough and got up. Harry watched Moody's eye spin around, taking in the bar. It paused on him. A moment later, the two were heading towards the table Harry and Hermione were at.

"Nice cloak, Potter," Moody muttered as he nodded to Hermione.

"You can see me, sir?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, and it's come in handy many a time, I can tell you."

Hagrid, meanwhile, was talking with Hermione about S.P.E.W. After Moody was done, however, he whispered to Harry. "Meet me tonight at midnight. Wear the cloak." With another nod to Hermione, he and Moody left.

"Why does he want to see you at midnight?" Hermione asked as they walked back to the castle alone. "I'm not sure if you should go, Harry. It might make you late for Sirius…"

Harry knew she was probably right, but Hagrid had never asked him to visit so late at night. It must be important. In the end, he and Hermione decided that he would just have to be fast.

Harry made his way down quickly and quietly, his many excursions under the Cloak aiding him in avoiding Filch, who was patrolling the second floor. Soon, he was knocking at the door to Hagrid's cabin.

"Harry?" Hagrid asked as he looked around. "Wait one moment, I have something to show you,"

Harry was about to ask what they were waiting for before taking in what Hagrid was wearing. He had his suit on again, and this time had added a massive artichoke in the buttonhole. He also seemed to have attempted to comb his hair, judging by the broken comb teeth in it. "Is Madame Maxime coming too?" he asked warily.

"Why yes, she is," Hagrid said happily. "In fact, she should be…" At that moment, Harry heard the distant sound of the Beauxbatons carriage door opening.

"Bong-sewer," Hagrid said as Madame Maxime arrived, looking a lot friendlier than any other time Harry had seen her. Wondering what Hagrid was playing at this time, he followed the pair around the padlock for the horses and along the edge of the forest.

"Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?" Madame Maxime asked after a few minutes. Harry was quite curious to know the answer as well.

"Yeh'll like this," Hagrid said, "worth seein', trust me. On'y don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, yeh're not supposed to know."

"Of course not, 'Agrid," Madame Maxime said. Harry had a sudden suspicion what he was about to see, and was very glad that he had come.

His suspicions were vindicated a minute later when they reached their destination. Well away from the castle, just within the forest, a group of men were waging a terrible battle against a quartet of massive dragons.

"Madness…" Harry whispered, staring at the massive lizards. A green one twisted its head, almost ripping the peg securing its collar out of the ground. A massive red one launched a wave of fire at a pair of wizards, who were barely able to block it. A silvery blue one seemed to have been mostly restrained, but was still trying to gore the wizards around it with it's massive horns. Then there was the largest, black as pitch, which seemed to be trying to snap its chains with its tail, which Harry realized was covered in spikes.

"Beautiful, is'n' it?" Hagrid asked warmly.

"It's no good!" one of the wizards shouted. "Stunners, on three!" Every wizard not otherwise engaged immediately drew his wands, choosing a target.

_"Stupefy!" _

About a half-dozen jets of red light hit each of the dragons. Finally, with a few roars, they fell. The wizards hurried forward, re-securing the ones that had almost escaped. Meanwhile, one of the keepers walked over to Hagrid, and Harry realized it was Charlie Weasley.

"How are you, Hagrid?" he asked, smiling tiredly. "We were hoping that being woken at night would keep them calm, but it seems that was not to be. Still, they should be alright for the Task."

"What breeds have you got?" Hagrid asked, moving closer. Harry noticed that Madame Maxime had moved quietly away, circling to get a better look at the dragons.

"Well that one there is a Hungarian Horntail," Charlie said, pointing to the black one. "Nasty, its tail is as dangerous as its head. The red girl over there is a Chinese Fireball, and the greenish one is a Common Welsh Green, and the blue's a Swedish Short-Snout." He glanced at Hagrid's suit, before looking over at Madame Maxime. "Romantic date, huh? Won't she tell her student?"

Hagrid seemed to be ignoring Charlie, watching as a pair of dragon keepers carried several eggs.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," Charlie said warningly before sighing. "They wanted nesting mothers. This is going to get ugly, that's the most vicious kind of dragon. I shudder to think about poor Harry." Hagrid shook himself.

"Yeah… I'm sure he'll be fine."

"I wish I had your confidence," Charlie said grimly. "I didn't dare tell Mum about what was going to happen, she's already hysterical… '_How could they let him enter that tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!_'" Charlie smiled slightly. "She loves him; she was in floods about the Daily Prophet, '_He still cried about his parents! Oh bless him, I never knew!_'"

Harry had had enough. He slipped away, almost running. What were those fools _thinking_? They were sending _students_ up against _high dragons_?

His mental rant was cut short as he suddenly ran into something… or someone!

"Who's there?" a voice hissed through the darkness. Harry clutched his cloak around him, swiftly moving to the side.

'Seems Karkaroff got wind of what was going on, and decided to have a look,' he thought grimly as the bearded man stared around. After a moment, he continued on, carefully watching where he was going.

So it seemed that, come Tuesday, the only champion who wouldn't know what was coming would be Cedric. Harry wondered what he should do, but decided to focus on getting back to talk to Sirius.

He arrived at the common room, glad that the Fat Lady had been too tired to recognize that he shouldn't have been out. It seemed that Hermione had not been forced to go through with their desperate plan of dropping Dungbombs to clear the room. He sunk into an armchair by the fire, sighing.

After a minute, Sirius appeared in the fire with a pop. Harry didn't waste time being shocked, he had already seen Mr. Diggory do it. Instead, he smiled and knelt down by the hearth.

"Sirius…" he whispered.

"Harry," Sirius said quickly. He looked much better than the gaunt, pale man who had escaped Hogwarts on Buckbeak. "It's good to see you. How are you?"

"I'm fine, for the most part," Harry said quickly. Sirius simply raised an eyebrow.

"You know, your father used to say that a lot. Never convinced me then, either. What's gone wrong?"

It wasn't long before Harry broke down. He spent the next fifteen minutes telling Sirius almost everything that had gone wrong over the past few weeks (he excluded the mysterious glow and visions, they weren't strictly related.) He talked about how no one believed him, how Rita Skeeter had fanned the flames with her sensationalist drivel, but mostly about Ron.

"…and now Hagrid's just shown me the dragons that are the first task!" he moaned. "I don't stand a chance. They're _dragons_!"

Sirius had remained silent throughout the spiel. "Dragons can be dealt with, Harry. First, however, I have to give you some warnings."

"About what?" Harry hissed. In his eyes, the dragons were the most immediate problem he was facing.

"Karkaroff," Sirius said grimly. "He was a Death Eater. You know about them, yes?" Harry nodded blankly.

"He was caught, but got released after giving names," Sirius snarled. "I bet that's why Dumbledore wanted Moody back, he caught Karkaroff. Also, look out for the Durmstrang champion; Karkaroff's been teaching the Dark Arts at his school."

"So did he put my name in?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, Harry." Sirius said. "If he did, it was likely on Voldemort's orders. I've been reading the Daily Prophet, and between the lines of Rita Skeeter, there have been some disturbing clues. Bertha Jorkins; she disappeared in Albania, where Voldemort was rumored to be last. She was in Games and Sports, she would know about the Tournament. If Voldemort got her, I wouldn't put it past him to come up with a plan to strike at you."

"Like putting me in a tournament with dragons?" Harry asked, trying to get Sirius to focus on the problem a few days away.

"Right, the dragons," Sirius said, noting Harry's discomfort. "Don't bother with Stunners, it won't get past their scales. Dragon's have a lot of magic in them, they'll resist direct magic. But there is a simple spell that will work. What you have to do is…"

Harry raised a hand, listening. Someone was moving upstairs, and it was getting louder.

"Go! Someone's coming!" Harry hissed. Whatever might happen, he was not letting Sirius get seen, that would cause all kinds of problems. His godfather disappeared with a pop.

It was Ron.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked as he saw Harry.

"Why do you care?" Harry snarled, his rage building. "I thought you hated me now?" Ron flinched.

"I was just…"

"Just messing up my only chance of survival!" Harry hissed violently. He knew that he was probably blazing like a sun right now, but he didn't care. He had dredged up a lot of pain in his talk with Sirius, and he was almost glad he had someone to vent it on.

Ron's ears turned red. "Right, so you must have been preparing for your next interview. Sorry I disturbed you."

A second later, Ron was lying on his back, caught in a Full Body Bind. Harry stalked over to him, crouching down.

"It was Sirius I was talking to, you blithering fool," he growled, seeing the blue blaze of his eyes reflected in Ron's. "He was about to tell me how to get past one of the _gigantic honking dragons_ that are currently waiting to butcher the champions." He rose to his feet. "If I die, my blood's on your hands." With that, he stalked upstairs, lifting the curse as he passed.

Ron didn't return to bed that night.

* * *

><p>Hermione almost panicked when Harry told her what was coming.<p>

"_Dragons?"_ she squeaked, covering her mouth. "Oh Harry…"

"I know," Harry hissed. "And it gets worse. Sirius was about to tell me how to beat them, but that enormous prat Ron showed up, and Sirius had to leave. All I got was that it was a simple spell."

"Well, let's go!" Hermione cried, obviously speaking about the library. Harry didn't disagree with her.

However, it turned out to be a waste. Harry and Hermione looked in every book they could find about dragons, as well as digging through simple spell books. Around dinner, however, they were forced to abandon their attempt, especially when Victor Krum and his fan club showed up.

"Why can't he read on that stupid ship of his?" Hermione grumbled as they ate. Harry listened with half an ear, keeping his eyes on Ron, who was sitting alone halfway down the table. After a moment, the other boy looked up at Harry before leaving. Harry watched him go, before glancing over to the Hufflepuff table just in time to see Cedric Diggory stand and head for the door. He suddenly remembered that Cedric didn't know what he was going to face.

"Be back in a moment," he said quietly to Hermione before heading out himself. He saw Cedric wander up the stairs, it seemed he was heading for the library himself. Harry glanced around, there didn't seem to be anyone in the area. It was now or never.

"Cedric!" he called. The older boy turned, smiling slightly.

"Harry," he answered. "What are you doing here?"

"The first task is dragons," Harry said. Cedric blinked.

"What?" he asked, obviously thinking he hadn't heard right.

"Dragons. They have one for each of us." Cedric stared at him, his mouth open slightly.

"Are you… how did you…"

"I saw them," Harry said quickly. "I'm not the only one, Maxime and Karkaroff both saw them too, and they're sure to have told Krum and Fleur."

Cedric looked slightly suspicious. "Why are you telling me?"

"It's only fair," Harry said. "I know, Fleur and Krum know, you should know too." Harry wouldn't let anyone go up against a dragon unprepared. Well, maybe Malfoy or Snape…

Before Cedric could ask another question, Harry heard a clunking noise behind him. He spun around in time to see Mad-Eye Moody exiting a nearby classroom and heading towards the pair.

"Come with me, Potter," he growled. "Diggory, off you go." Harry watched the former Auror warily, wondering how much he had heard. Still, there was nothing to do now, so he followed Moody. He risked one last glance back at Cedric, who was looking confused and scared.

"That was a decent thing you did there, Potter," Moody said quietly as he pointed Harry to a chair in his office. Harry nodded mutely, too busy looking around. The office looked completely different from what it had looked like under the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Where Lupin would have had some interesting creature he was planning to show in class, and Lockheart had hung innumerable portraits of himself, Moody had the oddest collection of devices Harry had ever seen. On the desk was a larger version of the Sneakoscope Harry himself owned, along with several things that looked like golden television aerials. One corner held a mirror full of foggy shapes, and another a large trunk with seven keyholes.

"Admiring my Dark Detectors?" Moody asked with a grin, watching Harry's eyes. "Unfortunately, I've had to disable most of them, apparently students are not the most trustworthy people." He chuckled darkly. "So, found out about the dragons, did you?" Harry remained silent, not knowing what exactly to expect. Moody chuckled again. "Don't worry. Cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament, always has been, always will be. I told Dumbledore that he can be as high minded as he likes, but Karkaroff and Maxime won't. They want to beat him."

Harry still kept quiet, which seemed to amuse Moody. "Well done, Potter. It's a smart man that listens." He seemed to center himself. "So, any ideas how you're going to get past the dragon?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Well, I'm not going to tell you, but I'll give you some general advice," Moody growled. "The first bit of advice is to _play to your strengths_."

This didn't make immediate sense to Harry. He could tell that Moody was trying to give him a hint to do with the dragons, but he couldn't figure out what he was getting at.

"Come on, Potter! What's your strength?"

"Well, I'm a good flyer…" Moody nodded eagerly.

"That's true, keep that in mind. Always be aware of your strengths. Now, the second bit of general advice is to have a plan to _get what you need_."

"But I…" Harry's eyes widened. He was only allowed a wand, but hadn't he just learned a spell to get objects from a distance with magic? It seemed the Summoning Charm might be his salvation. It was a good thing that he had gotten it so quickly, it would have been a nightmare trying to get it right at the last second.

"Well done, Potter," Moody growled happily (Harry had no clue how he pulled that off). "Keep my advice in mind, it will help you down the road."

* * *

><p>The next two days passed much faster than Harry would have liked. Even though he now had a plan, the fact remained that he was about to go up against a fully-grown, nesting dragon. That was not the kind of thing one did when they wanted to go on living.<p>

Finally, Harry was sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch. A distant part of his mind wondered idly if this would be his last meal, but he forced that bit down. He had a good plan, all he had to do was execute it.

"Harry?" a voice said quietly above him. He glanced up to see Ron. He simply raised an eyebrow to indicate he was listening.

"Look, Harry, can we talk?" Ron asked lamely. Hermione said something Harry didn't register and slipped away. Harry still didn't respond, simply keeping his eyes on Ron.

"I'll… take that for a yes?" Ron said hopefully, sitting down. "Look, I've been thinking…" He glanced at Harry, seeming to hope that he would talk. Harry, however, had no interest in making this easy, not yet.

"…I… I've been thinking about what you said… that night…" Ron was stammering almost as badly as Quirrel from first year. "I… I guess…"

Harry had heard enough. "I know, Ron," he said quietly. "You don't have to say it."

"But I…" Ron started, but Harry cut him off with a slight smile.

"Ron, it's alright." All the anger that Harry had felt towards Ron had drained away. This was his best friend, the boy who had gone with him into the Chamber of Secrets, thrown himself in front of Harry when he thought Sirius was about to murder him. Things were as they should be.

"So… you have a plan, for the dragons?" Ron asked quietly.

"Indeed," Harry said, delicately taking a bite of his lunch.

Ron looked like he was about to ask Harry to elaborate when Harry saw Professor McGonagall sweeping towards him.

"Mr. Potter, the champions are heading towards the First Task," she said worriedly. "If you'll follow me."

"Good luck, mate," Ron said as Harry left. He glanced back in time to see Hermione sit down in his former position at start talking to Ron.

Harry supposed that he should have been worried out of his mind. He should have been scared. Oddly, though, he wasn't. The thought that Ron had returned to him was giving him a massive confidence boost, even though he knew rationally that it wouldn't make a difference one way or another.

"Now, don't panic, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, her voice shaking. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "We have wizard's standing by to contain the situation if things get out of hand. Just do your best, no one will think any worse of you… How are you doing?"

"Perfectly fine, Professor!" Harry said in a bright, chipper voice. Professor McGonagall stared at him, obviously shocked. Harry was a bit surprised at himself. Maybe he was going mad.

The two soon arrived near the dragon enclosure, and Harry saw that they had erected a massive tent to block the monsters from view. There also seemed to have been some stands set up.

"…Well, in you go, M… Harry," Professor McGonagall said. "Good luck…" She then reluctantly let his shoulder go and walked away. Harry ducked through the flap.

The other champions were already inside. Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner, looking like she was about to be sick. She glanced up as he entered, and her face lacked the normal, disdainful look. Cedric was pacing, whispering to himself. He smiled slightly to Harry as he entered. Viktor Krum was leaning against one of the poles, his face completely blank.

"Ah, Harry, very good!" Mr. Bagman cried, looking very out of place with his happy smile. "Now, we'll just wait a moment longer for the crowd to assemble before we begin. When we do, I'll be offering each of you this bag, and you will be pulling out a model of what you are going to be facing!"

A minute of tense silence passed in the tent as the sound of hundreds of feet passed the tent, laughter and voices echoing strangely in Harry's mind. The strange happiness that had filled him since Ron had returned was ebbing away as the magnitude of what he was about to do set in. He wondered if he should have written up a will…

"Lady's first!" Bagman called as the last of the feet passed. Fleur reached nervously into the bag, drawing out the Common Welsh Green, or at least a tiny, moving model of one. It had at number two hanging around its neck. Fleur barely blinked, simply looking resigned. She had known.

Krum didn't react at all as he drew out the Chinese Fireball, number three. The Swedish Shortsnout, number one, came out in Cedric's hand. Finally, Harry drew out the Hungarian Horntail.

'Just my luck,' Harry thought as he watched it bear its teeth at him. 'I get the nasty one.'

"Well, there you go!" Bagman called. "You will be facing those dragons, in the order indicated by the number." He smiled around at the champions, none of whom returned the gesture. "Now, you're job is simple. Each of these dragons will have a nest of eggs, and one of those eggs will be golden. You have to get that egg, while doing your best to avoid damaging the others. That's partially for your safety, these dragons will go berserk if you hurt their babies." Everyone nodded. "Now, Mr. Diggory, when the whistle blows, you will walk out there and do your best! Harry, could I speak to you for a moment?"

Harry blinked. "O…K…." He followed Bagman out of the tent. After a moment, Bagman turned and smiled gently.

"Harry, how are you?" he asked. "Do you need anything?" Harry shook his head. "Got a plan worked out?"

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "I do."

"I'm just saying, you're the underdog here, Harry. When we restarted this tournament, we wanted it to be a nice, fun competition. We never wanted anyone to get hurt or, Merlin forbid, die. If there's any help I can give you…"

"I know what I'm doing," Harry said quietly. Bagman opened his mouth when a whistle blew.

"Good lord, I've got to run!" he said. "I'm commentating!" With that, he sprinted away. Harry slowly reentered the tent just in time to see Cedric leaving by the other flap.

The other two were still looking almost as bad as Harry felt. Fleur had started pacing, spinning her wand through her fingers. As she passed, Harry realized she was whispering to herself in French, probably reviewing her plan. Even Krum's face was twitching.

Then quite suddenly, the crowd roared. Everyone looked warily at the exit as Bagman's voice boomed.

It was horrible, listening as Cedric did… whatever he was doing. Harry couldn't understand exactly what was being said, which worried him.

'Get a hold of yourself!' he hissed to himself. 'Just focus on getting the egg…'

Harry's body clenched. _An egg_? He had never planned on an egg. He had simply planned on summoning his broom and flying over the dragon's head. But that wouldn't work if he had to go directly beneath it!

The whistle blew a second time as Harry desperately started trying to revise his plan to deal with this new complication. Fleur left, then Krum, while Harry bullied his brain, thinking of everything he knew about dragons.

Finally, as the whistle blew once more, Harry had come up with a sketchy plan. It could work, or it could fail horribly. Either way, he didn't have a better one.

He entered the enclosure to roars from the crowd. Most of the Gryffindors were carrying banners of some kind, but Harry didn't have time to read them. His entire attention was focused on the task at hand.

The Hungarian Horntail glared hatefully at him from across the enclosure, crouching over its nest. In the center of the grey, Harry saw a gleam of gold.

"Well, let's try the simplest plan," Harry muttered to himself, raising his wand. "_Accio Golden Egg_!" Nothing happened.

"Sorry, Harry, that won't work!" Bagman called. "But nice try, simple is sometimes best!"

"I hate you all," Harry grumbled. "Time for Plan B. _Accio Firebolt_!"

A tense minute later, the Firebolt arrived. Harry mounted it, but didn't kick off. This was where things were going to get ugly.

"_Accio egg!_" he hissed, and one of the Horntail's eggs flew to him, and he carefully set it aside.

"What in Merlin's name is he doing?" Bagman cried as the dragon roared in rage. "I don't think that's wise, Harry…"

Harry ignored him, summoning another egg, keeping a close eye on the Horntail. The dragon thrashed, bending down to block his sight of its cluch. However, its size became a liability, and Harry simply flew to the side, where it had to leave an opening so as to avoid crushing the eggs.

Finally, after the fourth egg, the Horntail had had enough. Shrieking, it rose to its full height and lunged at Harry, fire raking the ground.

Harry was already shooting straight into the air, followed by the massive dragon, its wings the size of a small airplane.

"Oh, dear!" Bagman called over the yells of the crowd as Harry dodged another wave of fire. "Ladies, gentlemen, this is why the Hogwarts motto is 'Let sleeping dragons lie'! Be careful, Harry!"

"You know what another motto should be?" Harry muttered as he barrel rolled to one side before rising sharply. "The bigger they are…" He fired three quick spells before dodging again. "…the harder they fall."

The three Diffindos, each marked by a line of blue light, slashed into the dragon's right wing. Two crossed, cutting a moderate chunk out of the third membrane section. The third spell simply slashed a line in the first membrane. Roaring in pain, the dragon flapped its wings again…

And promptly spun out of control. Dragons paid a price for their massive size when it came to flight. They needed every bit of their enormous wingspan to lift their heavy bodies off the ground. If even one wing was damaged, they started losing their ability to fly.

Had this happened higher up, the dragon might have been able to correct itself. However, as it desperately righted itself into a glide, it realized it was heading towards the trees at the edge of the enclosure.

As Harry sped towards the unguarded nest, he heard a wet pop behind him, followed by a shriek of agony. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the dragon sliding down a tree, its left wing sticking out at an odd angle. It must have hit the tree there hard enough to dislocate the wing, if not break the immensely tough bone.

"Would you look at that! Merlin's beard!" Bagman shouted. "Here I was thinking that the dragon keepers were here to save the champions from the dragons! Turns out they're here to save the dragons from Harry Potter!" Harry rolled his eyes slightly as the cheers rose. He soared a meter above the ground as he approached the nest, putting away his wand before doing a quick spin and snatched the golden egg. "That was unbelievable!"

Harry coolly slid off his broom as he tilted it up, transitioning from a glide into a walk. The cheers of the crowd were deafening, even drowning out the continued cries of the Horntail. Harry looked back at it in time to see Charlie lead a group of dragon keepers over and begin trying to heal the injured mother. Harry felt a flash of guilt for wounding her as badly as he did, but he pushed it aside. It had been her or him, and she would recover.

Turning in place, he finally caught sight of the judges. They were seated quietly at the edge of the clearing, behind a table bearing a gold tablecloth.

"Yes, Harry, come on over!" Bagman called, waving his arm. "We have to give you your score!" Harry walked quietly forward.

Madame Maxime came first. She raised her wand and shot a ribbon out, which twisted itself into a nine.

Mr. Crouch came next, giving Harry a ten. The crowd roared.

Dumbledore gave him a nine, and Bagman gave him another ten. Finally, all eyes were on Karkaroff. He seemed to be deep in thought, his eyes flicking from Harry to the dragon. Finally, he raised his wand and gave Harry a two.

A roar of rage echoed from the crowd.

"Ahh… Professor Karkaroff, could you explain your… interesting score?" Bagman asked, studying the Durmstrang Headmaster.

"While his methods were effective," Karkaroff said coolly. "Mr. Potter did serious injury to a rare and precious magical beast."

"Hogwash, it'll live!" Bagman muttered.

Harry suddenly realized that he didn't care what Karkaroff gave him. He had survived; no, had _triumphed_ over a fully-grown dragon. At the age of fourteen, he had taken down one of the most dangerous creatures in the magical world. That was enough for him. He nodded his head to the judges, indicating that he had no complaint.

"Well, that's that!" Bagman said, shooting one last nasty look at Karkaroff. "Harry, please return to the champions' tent, there's one last thing that must be done."

Nodding again, Harry turned on his heel and headed to the tent. Looking up at the stands, he realized that it was no longer just the Gryffindors cheering. In fact, it seemed that everyone except the Slytherins were on their feet, clapping and carrying on. He smiled, raising a hand briefly.

Fleur and Krum were already in the tent when Harry returned. Krum looked like he had never moved from his position against the central pole, but Fleur was studying the hem of her robes, which was burned. There was no sign of Cedric.

He arrived a moment later along with Bagman. Harry had to stop himself from jerking at the sight of a copious amount of orange gel covering the left side of his face. Still, he smiled at Harry.

"That was incredible, Harry!" he said.

"Well done, all of you!" Bagman cried. "Now, I have a few quick words for you. First, a quick review on the scores. Tied for first place are Mr. Viktor Krum and Mr. Harry Potter, both with forty points. Just a hair behind them is Miss Fleur Delacour, with thirty-nine. Finally, Cedric Diggory has a solid thirty-six. It's still far to close to call, especially with two more tasks before us!" He beamed around at the champions.

"Now, you have a nice long break before the next task, which will take place at half past nine on February the 24th. Where it will take place, and what it will entail, is up to you to figure out. The only clue you will get is in the eggs your currently holding, so don't lose them, we have no spares!" Bagman chuckled at his own joke. "Well, that will be all, good luck to you all!"

Harry left quietly along with the other champions. Fleur immediately headed to Madame Maxime and they walked back towards the carriage. Krum walked towards the ship alone, Karkaroff hadn't shown up. Several Hufflepuffs gathered around Cedric, worriedly asking if he was recovering from the burn he had received. Ron and Hermione met Harry.

"Oh, you're alright!" Hermione squeaked, her face still bearing the marks of where her nails had dug in. Ron looked little better.

"Mate… you nearly gave us a heart attack," he said shakily.

"Well, it was either that or fly around and hope the dragon got board and fell asleep so I could take the egg." The pair shook their heads.

"So," Ron said finally. "What's next?"

Harry was about to answer when Rita Skeeter hopped out from behind a bush.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at him. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?"

Harry pointedly ignored her, turning to Ron and asking about their last Transfiguration class as if it were the most important thing in the world. Rita Skeeter tried several more times to engage Harry in conversation as he headed towards the castle, but Harry refused to acknowledge her presence. Finally, as the trio entered through the massive double doors, she gave up and slunk away.

"That felt good," Harry said with a grin.

"Indeed," Hermione said. "She had a lot of nerve, trying to talk to you after the mess she made with that article."

"Dad talks about Skeeter a lot," Ron said. "She's tenacious. I doubt you've seen the last of her."

"If she comes again, I'll just have to ignore her some more," Harry chuckled.

AN: Thank you for all those who are still reading. Several quick things

First, the scoring for the First Task. I always found it strange that Fleur got last in this task, she didn't get injured or damage any of the eggs, and yet she got last? I understand that Krum would do well because Karkaroff is biased against everyone else and not afraid to show it, but she still should have been equal to or better than Cedric, who nearly got his face melted. If anyone could give me a reason for her getting fewer points, I'm curious to hear it. Below the AN is what I think the scoring was, with the first letter of the judge's name marking their score.

Second: pairings. I've had several requests, and I'm interested in what everyone else has to say. I'm not promising that I will do the most popular one, but I will weigh your requests.

Scores

Harry: 10-B, 10-C, 9-D, 9-M, 2-K = 40

Krum: 7-B, 8-C, 8-D, 7-M, 10-K = 40

Fleur: 8-B, 8-C, 9-D, 10-M, 4-K = 39

Cedric: 8-B, 7-C, 7-D, 7-M, 7-K = 36


	6. The Blazing and the Ball

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative than I am. I am in no way profiting from this story.

Reviewer Response:

raw666: That is a very good point, I missed it. Somehow I forgot that there are more biases flying around than the obvious ones.

Maben00: Thank you for the support. I admit that time is something of a problem, which school and a second story that I'm trying to balance. Should I focus more on this one?

SilverAegis: Harry is still Harry, even with Justice lurking in the back of his mind. He's not going to break that easily.

Deadzepplin: But he has, as Malfoy can attest to ;). His power is growing, though it will be a while before he's at Ander's level.

SamG589: I'm trying to avoid Justice completely stealing the show. He's growing stronger, though.

crazyjim87: Thank you. Don't worry, Harry will be showing just what a possessed wizard can do.

Junky: My excuse for the dragon is that, as I see it, there are two types of spells. There are spells like _Stupefy_, which have the same effect no matter where they hit, and spells like _Diffindo_, which are force manipulation. I believe that, while a dragon's scales could resist a force spell, their wings can't, just as the eyes are vulnerable to magic. If Harry had tried to stun the wing, it would have failed. Note that this is just my theory, but I'm sticking to it.

Remember, it's Justice that merged with Harry, not Anders, so no Spirit Healer action, I'm afraid. But Harry will end up with most, if not all, of the Vengeance branch (Vengeance, Wrath, Swift Justice, maybe Martyr and Blood of my Enemy). As for the rest, remember that there are more forces at work than Justice.

Inyaole: I'm afraid the repeating words has always been a flaw of mine, I'll try to correct it. This fic will be going beyond fourth year (It'd be pretty short if it didn't), so I'll have time to build any romance up.

Devilaire Mshadi: Don't worry, I love long reviews, it's nice to know someone cares enough to put time and effort into their response. I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I doubt that Luna could sense Justice, I don't think she has any powers like that, just a lot of maturity and a unique world view. She is a very likely candidate for Harry's partner, simply because she would be able to deal with the odd 'So who am I talking to, Harry or Justice?' questions.

I'm curious as to why you think Ginny would feel sorry for the dragon; the only two characters who might would be Charlie and Hagrid, both of whom are happy enough that Harry's alive.

And finally, yes, Orsino's line there was certainly his best, and one of the better ones in the entire game. It's so good it _almost_ made up for what happened afterwards (Damnit, Orsino, we were winning!)

Andrew MacKenzie: I'm glad your interested, and I hope I got the mess that writing about the Ball quickly devolved into sorted out to a satisfactory conclusion.

TeninChwang: In book 5, Ginny did specifically use the 'I was possessed' thing to slap Harry out of feeling sorry for himself, which was one of her first powerful moments in the books. She did such a good job that he promptly stopped thinking about being possessed, because he realized she was right.

The problem with Slytherins is that Harry doesn't trust them, and unless he gets some reason too, he will have nothing to do with them. Just about the only thing that would interest him would be a major disagreement within Slytherin house, which is unlikely to be seen by an outsider.

Harry quickly forgave Ron because he really wanted him back. The only reason he didn't push the situation was because he was too proud, the second Ron bent, Harry was willing to relent.

Well, with that hideously long response out of the way, let's get to why you're actually here!

Chapter 5: The Blazing and the Ball

Harry sighed as he leaned back against the tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest on Sunday. He glared moodily at the egg lying at his feet.

The week after the First Task had been much more enjoyable than the preceding month. It seemed that some combination of the danger he had faced against the Horntail, as well as his decisive victory, had brought the student body around the support him. The number of POTTER STINKS badges had decreased significantly, and Harry was no longer followed by enough hisses to make him think that there was another Basilisk haunting the castle. Even the Slytherins were taking a break from tormenting him, though Harry suspected it had more to do with fear than any sense of friendship.

Still, Harry couldn't feel entirely comfortable. This had only been the first of three tasks, and if dragons were the directors' idea of an opening act, then he shuddered to think what their plan for the next task.

He had therefore decided to get started on the egg that he had retrieved. However, he quickly realized that the clue was not going to be easy to decipher. In an hour of work, he had only come to three conclusions.

1) The egg screamed. Literally. Every time Harry opened it, an unearthly shriek would split the air. This was why Harry was out here; he didn't want to think about what Madam Pince would do to him if he opened the egg in the library.

2) If the egg was left open long enough, it looped. This discovery had nearly come at the cost of Harry's ears. The loop lasted about twenty seconds, paused for a glorious moment, and then restarted. This made Harry think that, whatever the screaming was, it was some sort of message. The problem, therefore, became determining what the message was.

3) Harry had no clue what the screaming meant.

"Any thoughts?" he asked his friends, glancing at them. Ron shrugged, rubbing his ears slightly. Hermione, however, looked interested.

"It's obviously some sort of code," she said.

"Either that or it's someone who thinks they can sing," Ron muttered, shivering as a gust of cold wind blew through the forest. Hermione had conjured each the trio one of her blue fires in a jar, but it was still chilly.

"Wonder what Hagrid's going to do tomorrow?" Ron said after a moment of silence, glancing over at Hagrid's hut. The last lesson, he had hinted that the class would be doing something interesting on Monday. Harry shrugged.

"Somehow, I doubt it will be good for our health," he muttered. The skrewts were still growing frighteningly fast, and were becoming even more vicious. The only good news was that they were continuing to kill each other. Harry shook his head and turned his attention back to the egg, opening it again.

The horrible scream filled the air again, causing several birds to flee the area. Harry kept his eyes on the egg, even though it didn't look any different than the previous openings. One of the first things he had checked was that the clue wasn't written on the inside of the egg, with the screaming as a distraction. After a few moments, he shut the egg with a snap.

"Let's stop for now," Hermione said gently. "We'll try and come up with some other ideas." The boys nodded, eager to get out of the cold.

It turned out that Hagrid's lesson was going to be as miserable as Harry had predicted. It hadn't seemed so bad at first; they had been trying to nail the ugly things into crates to see if they hibernated. However, the skrewts had quickly taken offense to this, using their flame blasts and brute strength to break free.

"Don't panic!" Hagrid shouted as the Harry ducked a flying, flaming board. The skrewt responsible glared at him murderously, cocking its stinger and advancing.

Most of the class, led by Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, swiftly barricaded themselves in Hagrid's hut. However, a few students (all Gryffindors) remained outside to try and contain the situation. This was complicated by the skrewts' armor, which seemed to be magic resistant.

Harry was able to tip a pair over by levitating the wood they were standing on with enough force to flip them, allowing Hagrid to safely secure them. Ron and Hermione were trying to dissuade another from approaching with a volley of sparks, while Dean, Seamus, and Lavender banded together to use their wands to throw various bits of detritus at the remaining skrewts.

A particularly large female approached Harry, launching itself with a blast of its end. Harry fell onto his back, blasting it further into the air by its underbelly. He swiftly clambered to his feet and flipped it over as well, before dodging another skrewt.

Hermione had started transfiguring the ground, making it more akin to swamp than frosty soil. This gave her and Ron time to restrain another pair of skrewts. The rest of the class was still trying to desperately hold the rest of the beasts off.

"Well, well, doesn't this look like fun?" Harry groaned slightly as Rita Skeeter spoke up from her position against Hagrid's fence. He knocked another skrewt off its feet by slamming a stone into its side as it turned, quickly levitating a rope around its sting.

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked curiously as he calmly caught two males by their stingers as they tried to attack each other before swiftly tying them into a safe position.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Rita Skeeter said as Lavender squealed; one of the skrewts had caught her robes with a blast of fire, causing her to trip. Dean and Seamus both kicked the offending skrewt, giving Lavender time to get to her feet. Harry, Ron, and Hermione swiftly moved to aid their classmates.

"Though Dumbledore said you weren' aloud inside the castle anymore?" Hagrid said as he restrained another skrewt. Harry rolled his eyes as he and Ron held another in place with magic while Hermione tied its sting. The last was overcome by the combined effort of Seamus, Dean, and Lavender.

Rita Skeeter ignored Hagrid's question. "What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked. Hagrid smiled slightly as he started herding the skrewts together a safe distance from the hut.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," he said proudly. Harry glanced back at Hagrid's hut, where the rest of the class was still hiding out. He beckoned slightly, telling them that the danger was over and they could leave now. Only a few took him up.

"Really? I've never heard of those before, where did you get them?" Harry felt a chill pass through him as he turned. Knowing Hagrid, he had a feeling that the answer to that question would not be good.

Fortunately, his sudden movement seemed to attract Rita Skeeter's attention. "Oh, Harry, you're here? You like Care of Magical Creatures? One of your favorite lessons."

Harry was tempted to ignore her, but didn't want her returning her scrutiny to Hagrid. "Yes," he said shortly.

"Lovely!" Rita Skeeter said, beaming. "Have you been teaching long, Hagrid?" she turned back to the large man. Harry's eyes narrowed, this couldn't end well.

"This is me second year," Hagrid said. Rita Skeeter smiled, and Harry couldn't help but feel that it wasn't a good smile.

"Lovely! I don't suppose you would be willing to give an interview?" she coaxed. "The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, I'm sure we could find a place for these… Bang-Ended Scoots."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er, sure, why not?"

Harry desperately wanted to dissuade Hagrid, knowing full well what would become of that "interview," but he couldn't tell Hagrid this without Rita Skeeter seeing.

"Well, the worst that can happen, or best, now that I think about it, is Hagrid having to get rid of the skrewts," Ron said bracingly over lunch. "Dumbledore's gotten him out of worse trouble before."

Harry nodded, still thinking. Eventually, the trio split up, Harry and Ron to Divination and Hermione to Arithmancy. Divination had become a lot more fun now that Ron was Harry's friend again, they could go back to snickering behind their hands at all the ridiculous things Professor Trelawney predicted.

"I would think that _some_ of use," Trelawney said coolly, staring at Harry, "would be less frivolous had they seen what I had during my crystal gazing last night!"

"Would it be Death or the Grim, Professor?" Harry asked, his face perfectly straight. Dean and Seamus were less successful, snorting into their books. Trelawney puffed herself up slightly, but was interrupted by the bell.

"I mean, if I had died every time she predicted I would, I would be a medical miracle," Harry chuckled as he and Ron headed back towards the Gryffindor common room. Before they reached it, however, Hermione rushed up to them.

"Harry! You've got to come!" she cried, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him back the way she came. Harry and Ron shared a glance; Hermione rarely got excited like this, and when she did it was generally over some new book she had found. However, she didn't seem to be heading towards the library.

"What's going on, Hermione?" Harry asked, pulling his arm out of her death grip. She spun around.

"I just found the most incredible thing!" she squealed, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "Come on!" Harry sighed quietly and followed Hermione down the stairs into the entrance hall and through the door that Cedric had gone through on the night their names had come out of the Goblet of Fire. After a moment of walking down some step and then an unknown corridor, they reached a painting of a bowl of fruit.

"Are you going to tell us what this is about now?" Ron asked, looking around. Harry, however, had an idea. He remembered hearing Hermione weasel the location of the kitchens out of Fred and George a few days ago. It was behind a painting of a fruit bowl, rather like the one they were currently looking at.

"Hermione," he said carefully, "are you sure it's best for all of us to go in to meet the house elves?"

"I already met them," Hermione said, reaching for the pear. "And I found someone! Come on, Harry." After a moment, the pear turned into a door handle, which Hermione used to wrench the painting open before pushing Harry in. Harry barely had time to look around the room before his ears were pierced by a loud squeal.

"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!" Harry had a second to brace himself as a house elf threw himself at Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry's middle hard enough that it felt like his ribs were about to crack.

"Dobby?" he asked, looking down. The house elf's green orbs shone as he stared back.

"It is, Harry Potter sir, it is!" Dobby squeaked, finally releasing Harry and smiling up at him. "Dobby has been hoping that he would meet Harry Potter again, and here he is!" Harry couldn't help but smile slightly; he had forgotten how excitable Dobby was.

He was soon distracted by Dobby's choice in clothes. He still war the sock that Harry had used to free him from Mr. Malfoy. The rest of his garments were more… interesting. His other sock was pink and orange striped, his legs were covered by a pair of children's football shorts, he had no shirt, though he still wore a horseshoe-patterned tie. His bat-like ears were still visible through the holes in the tea-cozy he wore instead of a hat.

"It's good to see you too, Dobby," Harry said, wrenching his mind away from thoughts of where Dobby had got his wardrobe. Dobby's smile widened.

"Harry Potter is too good to Dobby!" he said.

"When did you get here?" Harry asked, glancing around at the other house elves that were beginning to look up from what they had been doing. Unlike Dobby, they wore what looked like a uniform; a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest and tied like a toga.

"Just a week ago, Harry Potter sir," Dobby squealed. "Dobby and Winky were given jobs by Professor Dumbledore!"

"Winky's here too? You didn't tell me that," Hermione said, looking around. Dobby nodded.

"Yes, Winky is here." He gestured the trio to follow him, and they headed past the four tables towards the fireplace. Harry was slightly distracted by the smiling and bowing house elves everywhere he looked. None seemed to want to approach, however.

"Winky, sir!" Dobby said proudly, pointing to a figure sitting by the fire.

Harry was shocked at Winky's appearance. The blouse and skirt she was wearing looked like it had once been pretty, but it had fallen into disrepair. There were stains and burns all over her garments, and Winky herself had a distinctly worn look. She sat silently, not even looking up.

"Hello, Winky," Harry said carefully. She finally looked up, her eyes red. She remained silent for a moment before bursting into tears. Hermione immediately rushed to her side, trying to comfort her.

"Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?" Dobby shouted over Winky's continued wails.

"Sure…" Harry said distantly, still watching the miserable house elf by the fire. The house elves nearby immediately responded, and within moments they presented Harry and Ron with tea and biscuits.

"Good service!" Ron said, taking a biscuit. The house elves smiled and bowed in response, leaving the tray on a nearby table before retreating to the sides of the room again.

"Dobby met Winky recently," Dobby continued, still trying to drown out Winky. "Dobby has been trying to find work ever since Harry Potter freed him two years ago, but it has been difficult. Dobby has been wanting paying for his work."

"Well, you're free, so that makes sense," Harry said, watching the other house elves start to back away slowly as if Dobby had said something horrible.

"Thank you, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby said, grinning. "But most wizards doesn't want a house elf who wants paying, sir. 'That's not the point,' they is saying before they slam the door in Dobby's face." He shook his head. "Dobby is liking work, but he wants to wear clothes and be free. Harry Potter gave Dobby a great gift, and Dobby is not wanting to waste it." He glanced at Winky for a moment. "Then Dobby is going to see Winky, and learns that she has been freed too."

That seemed to be the wrong ting to say, as Winky toppled off her chair from the force of her crying, Hermione kept trying to sooth her, but for all the good she was doing, she might as well be trying to halt the rising tide.

"And Dobby is thinking that they should get work together!" Dobby called over the increased screams. "And where is somewhere where two house elves can work together? Hogwarts! Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby! A galleon a week and one day off a month!"

Several house elves winced at the sound of that, as if the thought of being paid caused them physical pain.

"Dobby is a disgrace!" Winky wailed, finally giving meaning to her displeasure. "Dobby should be ashamed of himself, accepting pay!"

"Why shouldn't he?" Hermione asked, still patting Winky on the back.

"House elves is not supposed to be paid!" Winky wailed. "Winky may be disgraced, but she is not having sunk so low as to allow herself to be paid!" She started sobbing uncontrollably again. "Poor master, what is he doing without his Winky?"

"I'm sure he's doing just fine," Hermione said, a note of coldness entering her voice. "We've seen him at Hogwarts, and he seems to be healthy."

"You is seeing my master?" Winky whispered, her sobs tapering off slightly as she turned her watery eyes to stare at Hermione.

"Yes, he and Mr. Bagman have been supervising the Triwizard Tournament," Hermione said, trying to keep Winky calm. It worked… to an extent.

"Mr. Bagman?" Winky said, some of her misery replaced by anger. "My master is not liking Mr. Bagman. He is a very bad wizard."

"Bagman? Bad?" Ron asked, surprised. "Seems like a great wizard to me,"

Winky shook her head violently, starting to cry again. "No! No! Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! My master is telling me some things, but Winky is not saying! Winky is keeping her master's secrets!" She broke down again, and no one could get another coherent word out of her.

Finally, after a long discussion with Dobby, the trio left.

"I think it's wonderful that Dobby's working here," Hermione said as they walked across the entrance hall. "Now that they can see how happy he is being free, they'll want that kind of life too."

"It doesn't work like that, Hermione," Ron said wearily. "Didn't you see how the other house elves avoided him when he started talking about being free? They like their life."

"Then why does Dobby like his?" Hermione snarled, glaring at Ron. Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione could be…

Suddenly, his everything went white with pain, and he distantly heard himself cry out. The last thing he heard as the ground rushed up to meet him was Hermione and Ron calling his name.

* * *

><p><em>"This isn't right!"<em>

_ Harry shook his heavy head slightly, trying to raise it from the dirt. Wait, dirt?_

_ "Why not?" another voice asked. Finally, Harry was able to lift his face and look around. He was laying at the edge of a forest clearing, watching two figures in the center. One wore what looked like heavy, medieval armor, and had a sword and shield strapped to his back. The other took a moment for Harry to recognize. It was Anders, though he looked younger. He wore robes similar to the ones he had died in, and carried a large staff. The whole scene seemed… surreal, almost like Harry was viewing it through a veil and from a great distance, even though there couldn't be more than a few meters between him and the pair._

_ "You're current body wasn't too bad, it was already dead!" Anders cried, gesturing at the armored figure. Harry tried to stand, but found that his body was just too heavy. "But what you're asking…"_

_ "Is it truly so wrong?" the second voice continued calmly, and Anders fell silent. "I am no demon, I seek not to destroy this world. I seek to save it from itself, its own fear and injustice."_

_ "But you would still reside in a mortal body," Anders whispered. "My body."_

_ "And it can be no one other than you, my friend." The voice was gently, calming, as the armored man began to pace, his face still remaining outside of Harry's view. "It is through you that I learned of the injustice that your people face. It is only through you that it can be corrected."_

_ "How is this possible?" Anders whispered. Harry finally forced himself to one knee, but had to lean against a tree as his head started to spin. _

_ "I cannot remain in this world long, Anders," the second voice continued. "Kristoff's body is decaying, soon it will no longer have the strength to act." Harry's eyes finally cleared, and he started trying to get to his feet. "I cannot bear to leave this atrocity behind, Anders, but without help, there is nothing I can do." _

_ "But why me?" Anders asked, taking a step back. _

_ "You have the power to change the world, Anders," the unknown man said. "You always have, but you have not had the will to use it. I have the will, but not the means. Together, we can end the abuses the Templar heap upon mages."_

_ 'Mages? Templar?' Harry thought, finally getting his feet underneath him. He looked back at the two men._

_ "I… guess…" Anders said, his hands drifting to his side. _

_ "There is no doubt about it, Anders," the voice continued. The man took a step forward. "With our powers and wills in alignment, there is almost nothing we cannot do. Don't you want the madness to end?"_

_ "I do, but…" Harry stumbled towards the pair; he could tell that Anders was about to agree to the other man's request, a realization that somehow filled him with dread._

_ "But nothing, Anders. You want this to end; I can hear it in your voice. You don't want anyone to suffer as you have. How many scars do you bear from their brutality?"_

_ "…I've lost count…" Anders whispered._

_ "How many friends have you lost, to death and Tranquility?" the other man took another step forward._

_ "More than I care to think about," Anders said, his voice growing stronger. "You're right, Justice. It's time to end this." He held out his hand, palm up. The other man nodded._

_ "Yes, it is time," he said, pressing his palm to Anders. Harry finally caught a glimpse of his face, and fell back with a gasp. It was a rotting corpse, it's skull visible in several places. How was this _thing_ even moving?_

_ A flash of blue light filled the clearing, and Harry fell back into unconsciousness._

* * *

><p>"…think he's waking! Harry!"<p>

Harry jerked up, his breath catching. Light still blinded him, but it faded into indistinct shapes after a moment.

"Harry, mate, are you all right?" a boy asked. It took Harry a moment to realize it was Ron.

"Glasses," Harry groaned, looking around desperately. After a moment, the brownish blob pressed something into his hands. He put his glasses on, and the world resolved itself into the Hospital Wing.

"Mr. Potter, refrain from moving!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, bustling over from another bed.

"I'm fine," Harry said automatically.

"You are fine when I say you are fine, not before!" the matron said coolly, pushing him back onto the hospital bed. "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger told me that you collapsed quite suddenly. What have you done this time?"

"Nothing!" Harry said, slightly offended.

"Mr. Potter, every year you end up in here for some reason or another," Madam Pomfrey said, passing her wand over him. "Normally it is due to something you have done or had done to you."

"But…" Harry started.

"Students do not collapse for no reason, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey continued, reaching out and unwrapping something from Harry's head. "What caused this?"

"I think you should tell her, Harry," Hermione said. "If you don't, I will."

Harry glared at her for a moment before speaking. "I don't know what it is, but it started this summer, at the Quidditch World Cup."

"And I am just now hearing about it?" Madam Pomfrey said in a dangerously calm voice.

"It wasn't that bad before, a few nightmares, nothing to worry about," Harry said quickly.

"And the glowing?" Hermione asked icily.

"Didn't hurt me," Harry shot back.

"You still should have come to see me," Madam Pomfrey snarled. "It could have been, and seems to be, the beginning stages of something much more serious."

"Look, how bad could it…" Harry started.

"Do you know what this is, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked, holding the cloth she had unwrapped from his head. He shook his head. "It's meant to detect magical attacks. It certainly showed you were being affected by something incredibly powerful, more powerful than any curse I've ever seen before.

"How do you know it's a curse?" Harry asked. "Surely it would have hurt me before now if it was."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Madam Pomfrey said. "Now, Mr. Potter. Did anything happen when you were unconscious? Tell me, it could be vitally important." For a long moment, Harry considered lying, but relented as her eyes pierced him in a way reminiscent of Professor Dumbledore's.

"I… saw a vision, or a memory, I'm not sure," he said finally. "There were two people talking about oppression, or something, I didn't really understand."

"And who were these people, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked quietly.

"One's name was Anders," Harry said. "At the World Cup, Ron, Hermione and myself found his body, and it looked like him. The other… well, Anders said his name was Justice." Something passed through Harry as he said those words.

"Interesting…" Madam Pomfrey said slowly, her eyes distant. "I heard about the body being found, apparently he is baffling experts at Saint Mungos." She switched her gaze back to Harry. "Have you had any other visions?"

"Just some voices, during my sleep, nothing that made much sense."

Madam Pomfrey stayed silent for a long time. "Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I have no idea what has happened to you," she said finally. "And I have been treating students for more than two decades." She pointed her wand at him, murmuring for a moment, before shaking her head. "You can go, _for now_, but I want you to return here in a week, or immediately if something else happens."

Harry nodded, quickly rising and heading out of the Hospital Wing, followed by Ron and Hermione. The trio walked in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked gently. "You don't look well."

"I want to know what's happened to me!" Harry hissed, slamming his fist against the wall. "I thought I was getting better, and now this?"

"You'll be fine, mate," Ron said. "I'm sure that it's just some obscure thing that Madam Pomfrey will need to look up, and once she does, it'll be simple to cure."

Somehow, Harry didn't think that he would be that lucky.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Potter! What did I just say?" Professor McGonagall's voice cracked like a whip. Harry didn't even look up from his desk.<p>

"You said that you had some important information to give us about an event pertaining to the Triwizard Tournament," he said in a dull voice. A moment of silence filled the classroom.

"That is correct, Mr. Potter, thank you for listening," Professor McGonagall said finally. Ron couldn't help but snicker slightly. "The Yule Ball is fast approaching, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament. It is an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. It is only open to fourth years and above, although you may invite a younger student if you wish."

Harry distantly heard Lavender and Parvati giggling, though he paid little attention to them, still engrossed with an odd mark on his desk. Nothing had happened since Monday, but Harry couldn't stop worrying. He couldn't help but feel that this was simply the calm before whatever storm was coming.

His efforts to distract himself with the egg were also failing. Three days of library research into wizarding codes had come up with nothing, and a long examination of the egg for any minuscule writing he might have missed nearly deafened him before ending in failure.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, and Harry finally raised his head. "The ball will start at eight o-clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight. Now, the Yule Ball is a chance for us to… let our hair down." Ron snickered at the disapproving tone that Professor McGonagall's voice took with these words, but Harry couldn't bring himself to even smile. "But that does NOT mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell chose that moment to ring, but Professor McGonagall called one last sentence over the noise of people gathering their bags. "Mr. Potter, a word, if you please." Harry nodded, threading his way through the crowd and waiting in front of her desk.

"Now, Mr. Potter, the champions and their partners traditionally open the ball, so be sure that you are prepared."

"Professor, is there any way to avoid that?" Harry asked. He did not know how to dance, and in his current mood had no desire to learn.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, studying him intently. "Be sure that you have a partner and are ready at eight o'clock sharp. Please don't look so glum, so long as you make an effort, no one will think any less of you."

Somehow, Harry didn't feel very reassured. It seemed that the universe was still determined to make his year as miserable as possible.

When the list of those who wanted to stay at Hogwarts over the break was passed around the next day, there was barely room for Harry's name. Before, he had been among the minority in staying at the school, which he considered more a home than Privet Drive would ever be. This year, however, it seemed like everyone above third year, and half off those below, wanted to hang around.

"More people for me to make a fool of myself in front of," he muttered to Ron as they sat in the common room, playing chess.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said as his queen smashed one of Harry's knights. "You won't have a problem getting a partner, you just defeated a Hungarian Horntail. The girl's will be lining up to be your date."

"That's not the problem," Harry said as he tried to figure out how to salvage a losing situation. "I have no clue how to dance."

"Make it up as you go along," Ron snickered. Harry rolled his eyes.

It turned out that Ron was right about girls wanting to go with Harry. He had no less than _six_ requests over the weekend, all from people he had never spoken to in his life. He did remember two of them as being Ravenclaw girls that he had seen wearing POTTER STINKS badges, a fact he reminded them of. They had the decency to look ashamed of the fact.

"See, Harry?" Ron chortled. "If you'd just settle for one of them, this whole mess could be over."

"This whole thing is ridiculous anyways," Harry muttered. "I'll probably never speak to any of them ever again."

And there lay the root of Harry's problem with the ball; he just couldn't bring himself to care about it. He supposed he could ask Hermione, but that would be weird on way too many levels to count, he'd known Hermione since they were both eleven, and had never seen her as anything other than a good friend.

And other than Hermione, how many girls did he really know? A part of him was tempted to ask Cho Chang, the pretty Ravenclaw Seeker. However, he quickly reasoned that she, being incredibly popular, would have been asked out within a day. He figured he'd eventually end up picking randomly.

One bit of good news came on Monday. Hagrid decided that, after the hibernation disaster, it was best to avoid direct contact with the skrewts for a while. Thus, the class period was spent on the other side of Hagrid's hut, preparing food. This gave Harry ample opportunity to speak with Hagrid. They ended up talking about Hagrid's interview with Rita Skeeter.

"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said. "Seemed ter want to talk about you, Harry."

'Of course she did,' Harry seethed, though he kept his anger off his face. "What did she ask about me?" he asked.

"Seemed ter want to know if yeh'r some kind of troublemaker," Hagrid said, sounding bemused. "Never had to tell him off in four years?' she asked. 'Never played up in lessons, has he?'" Hagrid shrugged. "Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry."

"'Course she did," Ron said with a grin. "If she keeps painting Harry as a tragic hero, it'll get boring. Needs a new angle." He chuckled. "You were supposed to call Harry a mad delinquent, Hagrid."

"But he's not!" Hagrid said.

"Minor things like the truth don't matter to her," Harry said coolly. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet, but she said I did." He growled as he threw the dragon liver he had been cutting into the bucket harder than was strictly necessary. "She should have asked Snape; he would have been happy to pour the dirt on my name. '_Potter has been crossing lines ever since he first set foot in this school_…'" He had been in a bad mood all day; he was due at the Hospital Wing after classes.

"Don't yeh listen ter that old bat, Harry," Hagrid said, patting Harry on the shoulder. "Yeh've bent a few rules, but yeh're a good kid."

Harry couldn't help but smile slightly. He would always remember how Hagrid had gotten him away from the Dursleys. No matter what crazy monsters he had them looking after, he would always be on Hagrid's side.

"So nothing's happened?" Hermione asked as the trio headed up towards the Hospital Wing. Harry had suggested that they didn't need to come, but they had immediately insisted that, as his friends, it was their duty to try and look after him.

"No, nothing," Harry answered. It was true, even the dreams hadn't been bothering him recently. Still, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that, whatever was plaguing him had not disappeared, but was simply gaining strength.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I was beginning to wonder if you had conveniently forgot to come," Madam Pomfrey said as the trio entered.

"No, ma'am," Harry said.

"I'm going to assume that, since you didn't come to me earlier that your… condition, hasn't flared up again?" Madam Pomfrey asked, keeping her eyes on Harry, who shook his head. "Good. Now, I've made some discrete inquiries, and I want to make a quick test that might help." She held up a small vial. "I'm going to need a bit of blood."

"What?" Harry asked. Before, Madam Pomfrey had just poked him with her wand or given him a potion to cure whatever injury he had taken.

"The body that you believe caused your problem has a… unique taint in his blood, " Madam Pomfrey said. "I need to check to see if you've been corrupted as well." She noticed the worried look on Harry's face. "It isn't likely, but it's best to be certain."

"Are there any other theories?" Harry asked as he allowed Madam Pomfrey to extract a small amount of blood with her wand.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, carefully placing the vial on a rack. "Nothing either myself or any of the other Healers I asked matched the magical readings I got from whatever knocked you out." She pulled out the same cloth that had been wrapped around Harry's head a week ago. "I need to take another reading, to see if anything has changed." Harry sighed.

"How long will that take?" he asked as Madam Pomfrey wrapped the cloth around his head.

"A few minutes, Mr. Potter. Now, I want you to sit _quietly_ over there. You two, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, make sure he does as he's told."

"Yes, ma'am," Ron said. Madam Pomfrey looked between the trio for a moment, before taking the blood back into her office.

"Well, it could be worse," Hermione said as Harry sank down into the chair that Madam Pomfrey had directed him too. "You could have collapsed again, Madam Pomfrey would probably keep you here for a week." Harry nodded sullenly.

They were interrupted a moment later by the sound of the door opening. Harry glanced up to see Ginny supporting another girl her own age into the Hospital Wing.

"Where's Madam Pomfrey?" Ginny asked.

"In her office," Ron said, glancing at the other girl. Her scraggly blonde hair hung in front of her left eye, giving her a slightly lopsided appearance. She was also favoring her right leg and leaning on Ginny. However, she seemed perfectly calm, and was studying Harry with interest.

"Come on, Luna, let's get you to a bed," Ginny said, helping the other girl to the first bed in the line, not far from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I'll go get Madam Pomfrey," she said before trotting off towards the matron's office.

"You're Harry Potter," the girl named Luna said, her eyes still on Harry. "Is the headband a new fashion?"

"No, it's some kind of detector for magical injuries. I have to wear the stupid thing," Harry muttered.

"Oh, I though you wore it to cover the scar. It does that quite nicely, and it doesn't look bad either," Luna said. Her voice had a distant, airy quality, as if the girl wasn't really paying attention.

"It does?" Harry asked, reaching for it. Hermione immediately grabbed his arm.

"Madam Pomfrey wouldn't want you to touch that," she said sharply. She then turned back to Luna. "I don't believe we've met, I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Ron Weasley."

"I'm Luna Lovegood," Luna said, before lying back. "I wish they hadn't taken my Quibbler, I was almost done with the crossword."

"What's a Quibbler?" Ron asked. Luna turned her oddly wide eyes on him.

"It's a magazine. My father's the editor, so I can always get a copy." Hermione looked like she had something to say, but was restraining herself.

Ginny returned at that moment. "I'm afraid that Madam Pomfrey is busy right now, she says that she's doing something time sensitive, so you'll have to wait." She glanced at Harry, blushing slightly before sitting down next to Luna. "Don't worry, I'll wait."

"That's kind of you," Luna said. A minute of silence passed before Luna spoke again. "Aren't you going to do it, Ginny?"

"Do what?" Ginny asked, glancing at the other girl.

"Ask Harry Potter to the Yule Ball." Ginny meeped and turned red. "You said that you would like to, and he's right over there."

"I… You…" Ginny squeaked, covering her mouth. Ron looked like he was caught between laughing hysterically and being horrified. Hermione, meanwhile, simply put her face in her hands and shook her head.

"Would it be better if I did it for you?" Luna asked after a moment. "It seems the Nargles have gotten a hold of you."

Harry watched Ginny squirm. In truth, he was considering it. According to Professor McGonagall, he was required to have a partner to open the ball. While he might see it as an annoyance, it was probably important to the rest of the school. Also, Ginny had believed him about not putting his name in the Goblet. If Ginny asked him, he would be quite tempted to say yes.

"Go on, ask him," Luna said, acting as if Harry wasn't there. Ginny looked up, blushing.

"Er…" she stammered, before taking a deep breath "Harry… Do you… want to go to the ball with me?"

"Sure," Harry said calmly.

"Really?" Ginny said, blushing even worse.

"Really," Harry answered. Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the return of Madam Pomfrey.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, you can take that off and go," she said, to which Harry gratefully complied. "Remember, I expect you to return if something else happens." She then turned to Luna "I'm sorry you had to wait, Miss Lovegood."

"It's alright, Madam Pomfrey," Luna said distantly as Harry, Ron, and Hermione left. "It's not too bad."

Ron watched Harry strangely as the trio ate dinner. Harry sighed. "What's wrong?"

"You and Ginny…" Ron said warily.

"Nothing's going on, Ron," Harry assured him. Ron looked skeptical, but Hermione muttered for him to drop it.

"Well, at least you've got a partner," he said. "Now I just have to find someone." He finished clearing his plate. "Any ideas?"

Hermione pursed her lips, but remained silent. Harry opened his mouth, but shut it when she kicked him under the table.

"What was that for?" Harry asked a few minutes later in the common room, when Ron had gone to the boy's dormitory to get something.

"If I'm going with him, it's going to be when he figures it out himself," Hermione said coolly. "If not, then he can go with someone else, or not at all."

"Bit cruel, don't you think?" Harry muttered.

"Not at all," she said, opening her potions book. Harry shook his head slightly before following suit; he had too much experience with Ron and Hermione's bickering to put himself in the middle of it if he didn't have to.

* * *

><p>The rest of the term passed in relative calm. Harry had a few more dreams, but the voices were never distinct enough for him to understand them, so he felt no need to trouble anyone (and he didn't want to spend the next few weeks locked up in the Hospital Wing.)<p>

Harry's continued efforts into figuring out the answer to the screeching egg were meeting with failure, since he couldn't go outside as much because of the heavy snow. Finally, he let it drop; he couldn't concentrate.

All anyone else could talk about was the upcoming Yule Ball. Rumors flew about what to expect, everything from a fountain of Firewisky to veela dancers. The only one that seemed at all reasonable was that Dumbledore had booked the Weird Sisters, a popular Wizarding band, to provide the music.

Harry still got several requests to go to the ball, but now he was able to tell the encroaching girls that he was accounted for. Ron, however, was still having some trouble. It was three days into the break that he finally noticed Hermione was a girl and asked her. That conversation… hadn't gone well.

"Oh, well spotted, Ron," Hermione said coldly when he mentioned this revelation. Harry swiftly buried his face in his hands; he knew that this was going to get ugly.

"So, could you go with me?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No. I'm already going with someone else," Hermione snapped, slamming her book shut and glaring at Ron. "Just because it's taken you three years to realize I'm a girl, doesn't mean that no one else has!"

"Oh, yeah?" Ron challenged. "Who're you going with?"

"I'm not telling you, you'll make fun of me!" Hermione said before grabbing her bag and stalking over to the girl's dormitory.

"Mental, she is," Ron muttered, staring after her. Harry simply sighed, it was going to be a long break.

Ron eventually ended up asking Parvati Patil, though Harry suspected it was more an act of desperation than anything else.

The high point of the lead-up to the Yule Ball was the arrival of Sirius's letter on the day before Christmas. Immediately after besting the Horntail, Harry had sent his godfather a letter telling him that he had made it. Sirius's response was short, but filled with both pride and warning. He told Harry too keep on his toes; that the danger had not yet passed, which annoyed Harry a bit.

"I'm not a child," he muttered as he rolled the letter up. "I can avoid tripping over my own feet every few steps."

"He's right, though," Hermione said quietly. "I just wish that egg was coming along better. I know you're trying," she said quickly as Harry opened his mouth. "but still, I wish we could get it cracked so we can work on preparing for whatever might happen during the Second Task."

"That makes two of us," Harry muttered. "But I didn't need Sirius to tell me that."

"He's just worried about you," Hermione said. "It must be hard for him, sitting out there, unable to help you." Harry nodded, he supposed Hermione was right.

"Come on, mate," Ron said cheerfully. "It's Christmas Eve, you deserve to be happy for a little while! Come on, let's play a game of chess!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry smiled slightly and helped Ron set up the board. At the moment, there wasn't much he could do, about either the Tournament or Sirius, so he could relax for a little bit.

Harry woke suddenly on Christmas day to the sight of a pair of massive green eyes gazing into his own from a few inches away.

"_Dobby?_" he cried, jerking away.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby squeaked, jumping back himself. "Harry Potter did say that Dobby could come and visit him."

"Yes, and you can," Harry said after taking a moment to steady his breathing. "But to wake me up, I would prefer it if you poked me or something, rather than just leaning over me."

"Of course, Harry Potter," Dobby said before cocking his head slightly. "Harry Potter looked like he was having a bad dream."

Harry sighed; the confusing flashes had been stronger tonight than they had been in the previous few weeks, but fortunately there had been no voices. "It's alright, Dobby, I'm fine." Dobby watched Harry for a moment longer before smiling widely.

"Dobby came to give Harry Potter his Christmas present," He held out a bundle which contained a pair of thick wool socks.

"Dobby made them himself, Harry Potter," Dobby said proudly as Harry ran his finger over the stitched patterns of brooms on the red sock and Snitches on the green one.

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said, smiling. "Here, I got something for you too." This wasn't true; he had meant to, but other matters had driven the though from his head. Still, he opened his trunk and pulled out a pair of loose socks. Both had once been Uncle Vernon's, so Harry never wore them. "Sorry I forgot to wrap them."

"Socks are Dobby's favorite, sir!" he squealed, immediately putting them on. "I have seven now, Harry Potter."

"Hey, Dobby," Ron said from the other side of the dormitory, Harry hadn't noticed him waking up. "You still need a shirt. Here's one." He tossed Dobby his Christmas sweater that he had just unwrapped. "You might have to shrink it a bit, but it should keep you warm."

Dobby seemed on the verge of tears. "Sir is very kind!" he said. "Dobby knew sir must be a great wizard, for he is Harry Potter's greatest friend, but Dobby did not know he would be as generous and selfless…"

"It's just a sweater," Ron said, his ears turning slightly red. Harry chuckled slightly as he turned to the rest of his presents. Aside from a piece of tissue from the Dursleys (he didn't even know why they bothered anymore,) he was satisfied. A book from Hermione (what else,) some joke material from Ron, an enchanted penknife from Sirius, sweets from Hagrid, and the usual sweater and fudge from Mrs. Weasley.

The day passed in relative peace, aside from a vicious snowball fight after lunch. Finally, at seven, Harry and Ron traipsed back to the dormitory to get ready for the ball. Hermione had left a few hours before, much to Ron's disgust ("Three hours? Really?")

Ron had his own problems, however. Harry had forgotten how much his friend's dress robes looked like an actual dress, especially with the lace. Finally, in a desperate attempt to save some of his masculinity, Ron used a Severing Charm to cut all the lace off. It kind of worked; it was clear he was wearing robes now, but Ron had been in a hurry and hadn't done the best job.

"Could be worse, mate," Harry said quietly as they descended the stairs.

"Not by much," Ron moaned as he picked at one of the sleeves.

Ginny and Parvati met them at the bottom of the stairs. Parvati was dressed in a beautiful pink set of silk robes, her hair braided with gold string. Ginny, meanwhile, wore a fairly simple white dress.

"You… look nice," Harry said, trying to smile. This whole ball was so not worth it.

"Thanks," Ginny said, blushing slightly. "You do too,"

Parvati, meanwhile, was studying Ron's robes with a critical eye. She seemed to suppress a sigh before speaking up. "Well, shall we go?" she asked, offering her arm to Ron. He took it gingerly before letting Parvati lead him out of the common room.

"We should probably go too," Harry said. Ginny nodded, and the pair threaded their way through the crowded common room and headed towards the Great Hall. The entrance hall was packed with people, wearing every color of the rainbow. Harry saw Malfoy, dressed in a black velvet dress robe that made him look like a vicar. The Durmstrang students seemed to have just entered, as they were spreading out from the door. Harry distantly saw Krum greeting a girl he didn't know. He scanned the room for Hermione, but couldn't see her.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the murmur. "Champions! Champions, by the door, please!" After the four champions had gathered, she continued. "You will be entering after the rest of the students have taken their seats, please wait here."

Harry glanced at the rest of the champions. Cedric was with Cho Chang, and Fleur had taken Rodger Davis, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, and he was looking a bit shell shocked. Harry took a closer look at the girl Krum was with, and blinked, thinking he must be mistaken.

"Hi, Harry, hi Ginny," Hermione said, smiling slightly. Harry could barely recognize her. Her bushy hair was now sleek and shiny, and Harry realized that she had somehow shrunk her front teeth to their proper size.

"Hi, Hermione," Ginny chirped. "Glad to see it worked."

Harry was interrupted from asking what worked by the doors to the Great Hall being opened. Professor McGonagall called for the rest of the students to file in. As Harry watched, he realized that he was not the only one surprised by Hermione's sudden transformation. Not even Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson, Hermione's chief tormentors, could think of an insult to throw at her. Ron, however, simply walked by, his back stiff.

"Champions, you may enter," Professor McGonagall said after a long moment.

Harry glanced around the Hall as he and Ginny entered at the end of the line. The four House tables were gone, replaced by dozens of rounded tables lit by blue lanterns. The entire room looked like it was covered in ice, though it was quite warm. A massive tree stood in each of the four corners, and all were lit by live fairies.

The students were cheering and clapping loud enough to make Harry's ears hurt a bit. He did his best to ignore them, making sure that he didn't trip over his own feet as he headed towards the table at the head of the Hall, where the judges were seated.

Dumbledore was smiling as he clapped, his eyes twinkling merrily. Bagman also looked ecstatic, his bright purple and gold robes flashing. Karkaroff, however, was watching Krum and Hermione coldly. It took Harry a moment to realize that Mr. Crouch was nowhere in sight. In his place was Percy Weasley.

"Hello, Harry," he said pompously as Harry and Ginny sat down next to him. "And you too, Ginny." He said all this as if he was greeting foreign dignitaries rather than his sister and a boy who had shared a tent with him.

"Hi, Percy," Ginny said. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been promoted," Percy said proudly. "I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant. Unfortunately, he's not feeling well tonight, so I came in his place."

"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked.

"He's been overworked," Percy said. "He has been a driving force behind this Tournament, as well as trying to clean up the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup. He is a brilliant man, but even he has his limits. So he's enjoying a nice, quiet Christmas away from the bustle of Hogwarts. I'm just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."

"So, has he stopped calling you Weatherby yet?" Ginny asked innocently. Percy's ears turned red.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said quickly before grabbing the menu off his plate and ordering. Harry wondered for a moment how the house-elves managed to immediately know what people ordered and send it up within a second, but Harry quickly decided that thinking about it would give him a headache.

Hermione, meanwhile, was listening to Viktor Krum. Harry suddenly realized that he had never actually heard Krum's voice before now. It seemed, however, that he was quite interested in speaking with Hermione.

"Ve have a castle also, not as big as this," he was saying. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes." He smiled warmly. "But ve have grounds larger even than these. In summer, ve fly every day, over the lakes and the mountains…"

"Now, now, Viktor," Karkaroff said, his laugh offset by his cold eyes. "If you keep on like this, your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

"Why, Igor, all the secrecy… one would think that you didn't want visitors!" Dumbledore chuckled, taking a bite of his pork chops.

"Well, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said, smiling in a way that made it look more like he was bearing his teeth. "We are all protective of our private domains, are we not? De we not jealously guard the halls of learning, secure in the knowable that we alone know their secrets?"

"I would never dream to claim that I know all of Hogwarts' secrets," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Why, just this morning, I took a wrong turn on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a room filled with a truly magnificent collection of chamber pots. However, when I returned later to study the room, it had vanished, I must keep an eye open for it."

Ginny was still trying to get Percy to talk. "So, why didn't you tell us you were coming?" she asked.

"Because I only knew myself a few hours ago," Percy said. "I got a letter from Mr. Crouch that he was going to be staying home, and that he wanted me to stand in for him." Something about that sentence peeked Harry's interest, but before he could ask, Dumbledore rose to his feet and asked for the student's to do the same. He then raised his wand and banished about half of the tables to the sides of the Hall, and conjured a stage along one wall. One the stage laid several guitars, a set of drums, and several other instruments that Harry couldn't name.

'Oh here we go,' Harry thought grimly as the other champions and their partners rose to their feet. The Weird Sisters walked to their instruments and struck up a slow, mournful tune. "I apologize in advance for all the time's I'm going to step on your feet," he muttered to Ginny as he gingerly followed Krum's lead in where to hold her.

"It's Ok," she whispered back as they started slowly revolving. "I'll probably do it just as much."

All in all, the dance could have gone much worse. Harry did actually manage to avoid trodding on Ginny's toes, thought there were several close calls. Other dancers quickly started flooding the floor, taking the spotlight off the champions. Finally, the song ended.

"I thought you said you were a bad dancer," Ginny said, smiling slightly.

"I am, I was just making it up as I went along," Harry said.

"I think everyone's doing that, Harry," Ginny giggled. "Well, everyone except Krum and Hermione, they seem to know what their doing."

Harry, meanwhile, had just looked through the crowd and noticed that Ron hadn't moved from his position at one of the end tables. It only took Harry a moment to trace his glare to Krum.

Ginny soon followed Harry's gaze and growled. "What's my brother up to this time?" she muttered. Harry had a sneaking suspicion, but didn't feel comfortable voicing it in the middle of the crowd. Ginny glanced around. "Let's go find out before he does something stupid."

"Sure," Harry said, quite happy to have an excuse to quit dancing. The pair quickly threaded their way through the crowd to sit with Ron.

"You know, Ron, the point of these things is to dance," Ginny said. Ron ignored her, keeping his eyes on Hermione and Krum. At that moment, a Beauxbatons boy showed up and asked to dance with Parvati. She immediately agreed.

"Ron, what's your problem?" Ginny asked. "If you wanted to go with her, you should have asked her before him!" Ron opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the second song ending and Krum and Hermione splitting up. Krum wandered off while Hermione made a beeline for Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

"Hi!" she said breathlessly, sinking into the seat the Parvati had vacated. "Viktor's gone to get drinks,"

"_Viktor_?" Ron hissed. "Hasn't he asked you to call him _Vicky_ yet?" Harry rubbed his temple; this was going to be a nightmare.

Hermione looked confused. "Ron, what-?"

"He's from Durmstrang," Ron growled. "He's the enemy!"

"Didn't seem to bother you when he arrived," Ginny said coolly as Hermione blinked. "No, then it was all…"

"No one asked your opinion, Ginny," Ron shot back.

Harry, deciding that neutrality was the safest policy, looked out at the dancing crowd. In particular, he noted that Bagman was having a conversation with Fred and George. He didn't know what it was, but something in their stances told him that this was a confrontation more than a friendly talk between fun-loving people. He also noted Hagrid and Madame Maxime slipping out of the Hall as inconspicuously as two massive people could.

He was dragged back to his surroundings by his name.

"For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry!" Hermione snarled, glaring at Ron.

"What about the egg, then. Bet he was picking your brain, seeing what we've figured out!" Ron hissed back. "But you should probably go find Vicky, he's probably wondering where you are,"

"Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione cried, jumping to her feet and storming away.

"You had no right to say any of that to her!" Ginny said furiously as she rose to her feet as well. "Come on, Harry, let's leave the prat to himself."

Harry nodded, his eyes still on Fred, George, and Bagman. He noticed the twin's fists were clenched, and that Bagman looked like he was giving them a lecture.

"Don't know what's going through his head sometimes!" Ginny said furiously as they moved to an empty table. "Do you, Harry? You're a boy, maybe you can figure him out."

"I think it's less a boy thing and more a Ron thing," Harry said quietly. "He has a tendency to think with his emotions more than his head sometimes." He neglected to mention that Hermione wasn't blameless in that respect, though he had to admit he thought Ron was out of line in this instance.

"Hello," Percy said pompously as he arrived. "How are you two doing?"

Ginny looked very much like she wanted to tell Percy to go away, but was holding herself back.

"Fine," Harry said, still watching the twins. Percy followed his gaze.

"I know," he said. "No respect, the pair of them. I would have thought they would at least limit their trouble making in the presence of Ministry officials. I mean, Mr. Bagman's no Mr. Crouch, but he's still a Head of Department, and worthy of their respect. I have half a mind to go over and give them a piece of my mind."

It seemed he wouldn't have to as Bagman finally shook the twins off. At that moment, he noticed Harry and wandered over, smiling.

"I hope my brothers weren't being too much of a bother, Mr. Bagman," Percy said immediately, holding his hand out to shake.

"No, no!" Bagman said quickly. "They were just talking to me about those extraordinary fake wands of theirs, hoping I could help with marketing."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Bagman was clearly lying, but why? What was really going on? Percy didn't seem to pick up on it, though he did look like he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley about Fred and George's continued efforts on the joke shop front.

"So, how do you feel the Tournament is going, Mr. Bagman," Percy asked. "Our department's quite satisfied, aside from that minor hitch with the Goblet of Fire."

'Minor hitch?' Harry thought. 'Is that what their calling it?'

"Oh, it's been quite fun!" Bagman said excitedly. "I still can't believe Harry's decisive victory over the Horntail. Normally that kind of task ends up with the Champions running for their lives after completing it, but Harry's the one walking away while the dragon's shrieking in pain!" He clapped Harry on the shoulder as he said this.

"Yes, yes, quite good," Percy said.

"And this is working out well," Bagman said, gesturing around. "Shame Barty couldn't come."

"I'm sure Mr. Crouch will be up and about in no time," Percy said coolly. "In the meantime, I will do all I can to carry the slack. Of course, it's not all balls and fun. Why, tomorrow I have to…"

Harry nudged Ginny with his foot, jerking his head towards the door. She nodded quickly. Pretending to be going for drinks, they slipped out of the Hall.

The snow had been magically swept away from the front lawn, and a series of fairy-lit bushes had replaced it.

"Wonder what Fred and George were actually asking Bagman?" Harry mused as they sat down on a bench. Ginny glanced at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Bagman was lying," Harry said, still thinking. "That wasn't a friendly discussion, that was a confrontation. I just wonder what it was about."

"The twins have been on edge recently," Ginny said slowly. "Always sneaking off to work on something in a corner…" She glanced at Harry. "Do you think it's connected?"

"Who knows," Harry said, his eyes roving over the area.

"Well…" Ginny started before Harry raised a hand. He had just heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"…don't see what the fuss is about, Igor," Snape said coolly from the other side of the bush.

"You cannot pretend this isn't happening, Severus!" Karkaroff said, and Harry detected a note of fear in his voice. "It's growing clearer every day!"

"They flee," Snape said dismissively. "Flee, I will make your excuses. I, however, will remain at Hogwarts."

"He will be no more forgiving…" Karkaroff started, but Snape cut him off.

"Not here, Igor. There are too many ears." The footsteps faded away.

"Shame they didn't keep talking," Harry said quietly. "I would have been interested to see what Karkaroff was worried about, and why he and Snape are on a first-name basis."

"And who 'he' was," Ginny said, glancing carefully over the bush.

Harry remained silent. He had a horrible thought, remembering words he had heard only a month ago. "_Karkaroff was a Death Eater_," Sirius had said in a worried voice. Was that where Snape and Karkaroff knew each other?

Harry and Ginny sat quietly for a few minutes. "Well, this could have gone better," Ginny said finally. "What with Ron and Percy and everything." She glanced at Harry, and through the darkness he could see her ears turn red. "But I really enjoyed spending time with you, Harry."

Harry nodded, smiling slightly. When the Ball had been announced, he had been worried that he would be stuck with a clingy, giggling girl who would have demanded his complete attention at every moment they were together. "They're probably still dancing in there, if you want."

"We probably shouldn't," Ginny said. "Wouldn't want to ruin our perfect record of not stepping on each other's feet." Harry chuckled quietly, glad that Ginny didn't want to dance anymore. He hated it, but would have felt honor-bound to accept if she had been interested.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the fairies flitting around in the bush opposite them. Ginny giggled as a fairy darted out and landed on her head, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of a tiny glowing humanoid standing on Ginny's head, looking proud of itself.

They were interrupted by the sound of crunching branches behind them. They turned in time to see Madame Maxime pushing her way through the brush to get back to the castle. In the bright light of the fairies she was disrupting, Harry saw her expression was angry, though he thought he might have seen a tear or two as well.

"What's got her so hot and bothered?" Ginny asked as Madame Maxime entered the castle.

"Dunno," Harry said. Last he had seen her, she seemed to be getting on well with Hagrid, but it seemed that something had gone wrong. Glancing the way that Madame Maxime had come from, he saw a large shape ambling towards the edge of the garden, looking depressed. "One moment," he said, jumping to his feet and rushing over.

"Hullo, Harry," Hagrid said, sounding sad.

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hagrid said, but it was clear he was lying; Harry hadn't seen him so upset since Buckbeak the Hippogriff's life had been threatened.

"Hagrid, if you need to talk about something, I'll be here," he said gently, "like you've been there for me."

Hagrid stared at Harry for a moment before patting him on the shoulder hard enough to make Harry's knees buckle. He gave Harry a wet smile before turning and heading towards his hut. Harry shook his head and returned to Ginny.

"Is he going to be Ok?" Ginny asked worriedly. Harry sighed.

"I don't know. He wouldn't tell me what was wrong, though I'm pretty sure it had to do with Madame Maxime."

"That's a shame," Ginny said. "It's obvious he was infatuated with her. He put on that suit of his for her and everything."

"I know," Harry said. "Only time I've ever seen him excited about something other than a new creature with more fangs and eyes than anything really needs." They both chuckled slightly at Hagrid's love for large and dangerous monsters.

"He's a good man," Ginny said after a moment. "I spoke to him a bit in my first year…" Her face fell, obviously being visited by memories of what else had happened in her first year.

"I wonder how long it will be until there's only one skrewt left," Harry said quickly, trying to distract Ginny from the past. She shook her head.

"Not long now," she said. "I heard that another one was killed this morning."

"What's the number now? Six? Seven?"

"Seven, I think…"

Harry and Ginny continued talking about minor things for the rest of the ball, switching through topics such as classes, how long Hermione and Ron would refuse to talk to each other over this most recent spat, and why the older students were being so secretive in the bushes around them. Finally, as midnight approached, the pair headed inside. Harry saw Hermione and Krum saying their goodbyes while Ron stalked by, glowering at their backs. Harry rolled his eyes at this, but was interrupted.

"Harry!" Cedric called, walking quickly over to Harry. "Can I have a word with you?"

"Sure," Harry said. After a moment of silence, he realized that Cedric didn't seem to want to speak in front of Ginny. "Er, good night, Ginny."

"Good night, Harry," she said, smiling, before walking up towards the Gryffindor common room. Harry turned back to Cedric.

"Look, Harry, I owe you for the dragon clue," Cedric whispered, glancing around. "I want to pay you back. Your egg, it screams when you open it, right?"

"Yeah?" Harry said.

"Look, take a bath, Ok?" Harry blinked.

"Take… a bath?" he asked, thinking he must have misheard.

"Yeah. Take the egg with you; mull things over in the hot water. In fact, use the prefect's bathroom, on the fifth floor, near the statue of Boris the Bewildered. The password's 'pine fresh.'" With a smile, Cedric turned and went back to Cho. Harry watched him go before slowly heading upstairs.

Take a bath? Was that the best Cedric could give him? He, Harry, had told Cedric exactly what to expect. He hadn't said "Go sneaking around the Forbidden Forest, listen for the roars." Was this Cedric's idea of equal exchange, or was it just a joke, something to throw Harry off? He sighed, he'd talk to Hermione in the morning; maybe she would understand the cryptic clue Cedric had given him.

Any hope of picking Hermione's brain tonight faded when Harry entered the common room as his two friends were shouting at each other from opposite sides of the room.

"Well, you know the solution!" Hermione was shrieking.

"Yeah, what?" Ron bellowed back.

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, rather than as a last resort!" With that, Hermione ran towards the girls' dormitories. Ron turned to Harry, breathing heavily.

"Well..." he muttered, "well… that just proves… missing the point…"

Harry refrained from sighing and rolling his eyes. This stupid ball _really_ hadn't been worth it.

_AN_: My apologies for the whole Yule Ball; I know it's not my best work. I started this project on the premise of the action sequences, not the romantic mess that the Ball descended into.

Before you ask, no, the pairings haven't been decided yet. Harry went with Parvati, a bit character, in the actual canon. The ball means little in the grand scheme of things.

I sincerely doubt that Harry will be with Fleur; she disappears at the end of the book and doesn't make any more appearances until book six, and even then not at Hogwarts. And as I said to TeninChwang, any Slytherin girl would have to break through Harry's prejudices in a rather spectacular way. This is not impossible, but it is unlikely. The two most likely candidates are Ginny and Luna. Unless I or someone else has a major brainwave, it's going to be one of them.

Hope you like the chapter, and please review.


	7. The Crypt

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative than I am. I am in no way profiting from this story.

Reviewer Response:

deadzepplin: I think that Cedric wanted to win. He couldn't justify to himself telling Harry nothing, but was willing to give a less-than-perfect hint. Harry just wanted everyone to live against the dragons.

wolfey141: That option is looking fairly appealing.

raw666: Harry probably won't be casting actual DA spells until he and Justice fully bond, and that won't be for a little while longer.

Maben00: Thanks for the continued support, it's much appreciated.

TeninChwang: Where in the books were the Muggle-borns shown as remotely xenophobic? Seems to be the role of the Death Eaters to hate people for their birth (and yes, I understand that Slytherin doesn't necessarily mean Death Eater).

Andrew Mackenzie: Hopefully it won't come to that. Any romance will wait for a while, at which point the practice I've gotten will hopefully make it better.

Dusel: ;) though Harry will only have access to things related to Justice, so no Blood Magic, Arcane Warrior, or Spirit Healer. Harry will be stronger than most wizards, though.

Chapter 6: The Crypt

Harry woke early on Boxing Day, though everyone else was still asleep. The dreams seemed to be creeping back, but they were… different, this time. Where as before they had been a confusing mess voices, screams, and lights, this seemed… ordered, as if he was merely trying to understand the one side of a conversation that he could hear and no one else could, rather than listening in on a symphony of memories. Sighing, Harry got dressed and headed to the common room with the golden egg in tow.

As he sat, he pondered whether he should go to Madam Pomfrey and tell her about the resurging dreams. The idea of spending any more time in the Hospital Wing than was strictly necessary annoyed him, but perhaps there was something to what she said about this being dangerous.

In the end, he decided that he would wait for a bit. If the dreams started becoming clearer again, then he would get her involved. Until then, he had other things to worry about, such as the egg he was hugging.

What had Cedric been trying to tell Harry? "Take a bath?" How was that supposed to help? What, would the egg melt like those stupid bubble soaps his aunt and uncle had gotten for Dudley (Harry himself had been forbidden from using them on pain of cupboard.)? Would the clue magically rise from it's remains and display itself for his perusal? Or was Cedric just throwing him a false lead under the guise of fairness?

Harry's instincts told him that wasn't the case. Cedric had tried to call a rematch on a Quidditch game he had won because a hoard of Dementors had caused Harry to fall from his broom. That was not the actions of a boy who would take advantage of a situation like this. No, Harry was sure the clue was supposed to mean something, but Cedric had either assumed Harry knew more about magic than he actually did, or he had just worded his advice badly because people were around.

Either way, Harry hoped that Hermione was able to make more sense out of Cedric's words than he had.

He sat quietly, watching the sun reach further into the sky, before finally hearing the sounds of his housemates shifting above him. The first people to reach the common room were, surprisingly, Fred and George. They glanced at Harry for a moment before retreating to a secluded corner, pulling out some parchment, and whispering to each other.

Harry remembered what Ginny had mentioned last night, and now that he thought about it, the twins had seemed more subdued this year than most. He must have missed it due to a combination of his own troubles and not interacting with them on a regular basis due to there being no Quidditch practice. He soon pushed them out of his mind as Hermione arrived in the room, her hair once more a bushy mess. She saw him sitting in a corner and made a beeline for him.

"You had another dream, didn't you?" she asked quietly. Harry had already realized that telling Hermione was akin to telling Madam Pomfrey, so he had prepared an excuse.

"I was just thinking about the egg," he said quietly, which was not technically a lie. He continued before Hermione could interrupt. "Cedric gave me a clue, and I was hoping you could make more sense of it than me."

"What did he say?" Hermione asked, distracted.

"He said that I should 'take a bath', his words, not mine." Harry watched Hermione. Her lips moved silently for a moment, before she violently smacked herself on the forehead.

"Of _course_!" she groaned. "If that's it… It's so _obvious_!"

"What's obvious?" Ron asked as he sat down. His voice, while perfectly polite, seemed oddly formal. Hermione didn't seem to notice, she was too excited.

"The screeching!" she whispered. "It's not a code! It's the actual words of the clue!" She looked between the boys, both of whom looked lost. "Look, sound moves in waves, right?"

"It does?" Ron asked, looking confused. "What, like water?"

"Yes," Hermione said quickly, "but when the sound waves move through water rather than air, they get slowed! That's why, when you're underwater, everything sounds different!" Her eyes shone. "If I'm right, then Cedric meant for you to listen to the egg underwater. That should change the pitch enough to let you understand the clue!"

"Wait, wait, what's going on?" Ron asked, and Harry quickly explained the clue Cedric had given him. "But where would you get a bath?" Ron asked. "I don't think jumping in the lake in this weather is a good idea, and all we have are showers."

"Cedric recommended the Prefects' bathroom," Harry said quietly.

"I suppose…" Hermione said. Harry knew that she disliked breaking rules. However, she quickly shook her head. "Just try to go when no-one else is there, Ok."

"That would be at night," Ron said, grinning. Hermione sighed, but didn't retract her statement. They had to quit talking about rule breaking as more people flooded the common room.

The rest of the day was spent working on the homework everyone (except Hermione) had neglected during the first week of break. Harry was also considering how best to go about entering the Prefect's bathroom. He decided that Ron was right; it was best to attempt a night. That way, even if Hermione were wrong, he would have time to try several other approaches without fear of interruption.

He decided to do it that night; there was no real reason to wait. Therefore, as darkness fell over the castle, Harry slipped out of the common room, under his Invisibility Cloak, and set off towards the fifth floor, where the Prefect's bathroom was waiting. He carried with him the Marauder's Map, made by his father James, his godfather Sirius, and their friend Remus Lupin. Aside from the Cloak, it was one of the most important things he possessed.

It's greatest use was tracking the movements of various people within Hogwarts, showing them as labeled dots. Using this, Harry avoided Filch, who was patrolling the sixth floor, and Mr. Norris on the fifth itself. He soon arrived at his destination, whispered the password Cedric had given him, and bolted the door behind him.

After briefly scanning the room to ensure that he hadn't inadvertently locked himself in with anyone, Harry set the pool to fill from the truly gigantic main spout, which was activated by a lever rather than a tap. After it was full, Harry indulged himself with some bubbles from the other hundred taps, marveling at the crazy things wizards could do when they put their mind to it. After that, he undressed and carried the egg and his wand to the edge of the massive pool. There was a ledge running around the edge that he could sit on, which was good because he couldn't swim.

Finally, he took a deep breath and set about testing Hermione's theory. Putting the egg underwater, he took a deep breath and slid under with it before opening it. It seemed to glow with an internal light that he had never seen before, and rather than an ear-piercing screech, a mysterious melody drifted from the heart of the egg.

"_Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_we cannot sing above the ground._

_And while you're searching, ponder this:_

_we've taken what you'll sorely miss._

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_and recover what we've took._

_But beyond that, the prospect's black,_

_to late, it's gone, it won't come back."_

Harry drifted back to the surface, closing the egg as he did. What could the song mean?

"Come seek us where our voices sound," he muttered to himself. Well, that obviously meant underwater. And that likely meant the lake; it was the only large body of water near Hogwarts. This worried Harry greatly. Since he didn't know how to swim, he was going to have a lot of trouble. He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind so that he could focus.

"We've taken what you'll sorely miss." Again, obvious. Something was going to be stolen from him, something important. This thing would be taken to the bottom of the lake, and he would have to go get it back. Maybe if he locked his trunk up tightly enough that they couldn't take anything, he would win by default? Knowing his luck, probably not.

"An hour long you have too look… beyond that, the prospect's black…" So there was a time limit, and if he didn't get whatever it was they took within an hour, he wasn't getting it back.

But what was he going to be facing? Harry knew that there was a giant squid in the lake, but it had always seemed very peaceful. Maybe it attacked if it felt threatened?

"But it can't talk…" he whispered, his eyes drifting towards the painting on the wall. It was of a beautiful mermaid, currently sleeping. Were there merpeople in the lake?

Harry had never heard merpeople discussed in class, though he had read about them briefly in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. They were supposed to be intelligent, as indicated by their ability to speak and reason. Still, he didn't know enough about them to do a proper risk assessment. Could they use magic? Were they known to be hostile to humans? How likely were they to use violence to defend their homes?

And there was still the overwhelming problem of how Harry was going to get to the bottom of the lake in the first place. Even if he were a champion swimmer, he would need something along the lines of scuba gear to get to the bottom of the lake.

Still, there was nothing to be gained by sitting here waiting for Mrs. Norris to smell the bubbles and alert Filch. After opening the drain, Harry quietly dried off, keeping his ears pricked for any sound of intruding caretakers.

Harry continued to muse as he walked back to Gryffindor tower, pausing at strategic points to check the Marauder's Map.

'Who's stupid idea is it to make us swim, anyways?' Harry thought mutinously as he lay down to try and get some sleep.

* * *

><p>The next few days were spent in the library with Ron and Hermione, looking for methods of breathing underwater, a search which Harry couldn't help but feel would be useless anyways because he didn't know how to swim.<p>

"Look, Harry, it's really simple," Hermione said shortly when he informed her of this fact. "You just move your arms and kick your legs. Breathing? That's the hard bit, and that's what we're focusing on."

However, they quickly realized that it would not be an easy task to find a spell that would work. All the books that talked about underwater exploration assumed that the wizard reading them already knew how to get down there, and needed advice on what to do next.

"Who writes these things, anyways?" Ron muttered as he tossed another book aside. "Why can't someone just write a nice, simple book, detailing what to do when you have to go find something underwater in a nice, step by step manner?" Harry nodded vehemently while Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

Before long, however, the trio had other things to worry about, since classes were starting again. On Monday, Harry set off with the rest of his classmates towards the greenhouse, stepping gingerly through the thick snow.

"Going to be a miserable Care of Magical Creatures class," Dean muttered to Harry, nodding towards Hagrid's cabin as they fought their way over.

"For once, I'm glad for the skrewts," Ron said back. "Maybe they'll set something on fire so that we can warm up." Everyone chuckled slightly at that.

However, it wasn't Hagrid waiting for them at the edge of the forest, but an elderly witch. Her piercing grey eyes swept the class.

"Who're you?" Dean asked.

"Professor Grubbly-Plank," the witch said, her voice sharp. "We'll wait for a minute for the rest of the class to join us."

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry said, looking around.

"Never you mind," Professor Grubbly-Plank said shortly as the Slytherins finally showed up. "Let's go, you lot." She turned and led the class towards the padlock where the Beauxbatons horses were locked up.

"Is Hagrid alright?" Harry asked worriedly, somehow jogging through the snow so that he could speak directly to Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"He's been indisposed," Professor Grubbly-Plank said, not looking at Harry. All further attempts to discover Hagrid's fate were ignored.

"Hold up, all," Professor Grubbly-Plank said as they reached the edge of the forest. It took Harry a moment to pick out the unicorn tethered to one of the trees; since it's silvery body was brighter than the snow. Despite his worry for Hagrid, Harry couldn't help but be amazed. He had seen a unicorn before, but it being dead had detracted from it's beauty, if only slightly. "Alright, boys, stay back. They prefer a woman's touch, unicorns. Girls, approach with caution, they're gentle, but skittish. Liable to hurt itself trying to escape if you spook it."

Harry waited for Professor Grubbly-Plank to get out of earshot before turning to Ron. "You don't think Hagrid's been hurt, do you?" he whispered, trying to get a look at Hagrid's hut. All the windows were shut and curtained, giving no hint as to what was happening within.

"Oh, he hasn't been attacked, Potter," Malfoy said silkily, smirking. "No, he's just to ashamed to show his big, ugly face."

"Explain," Harry said coldly, turning to stare straight into Malfoy's eyes. Malfoy laughed quietly as he tossed Harry a rolled up newspaper.

"Hate to break it to you, Potter," he drawled. Suppressing the urge to punch Malfoy, Harry unrolled the paper. At the top of the front page was a picture of Hagrid, with the caption _Dumbledore's Giant Mistake!_ under it.

_Albus Dumbledore__, eccentric __Headmaster__ of __Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry__, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes __Rita Skeeter__, Special Correspondent. In __September__ of this year, he hired __Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody__, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-__Auror__, to teach __Defence Against the Dark Arts__, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the __Ministry of Magic__, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. _

_ Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the __part-human__ Dumbledore employs to teach __Care of Magical Creatures__. __Rubeus Hagrid__, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his __third year__, has enjoyed the position of __Gamekeeper__ at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the __headmaster__ to secure the additional post of __Care of Magical Creatures__ teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates. _

_ An alarming large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening." "I was attacked by a __hippogriff__, and my friend __Vincent Crabbe__ got a bad bite off a __flobberworm__," says __Draco Malfoy__, a __Fourth year__ student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything." Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however._

_In conversation with a __Daily Prophet__ reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "__Blast-Ended Skrewts__," highly dangerous crosses between __manticores__ and __fire crabs__. The creation of new breeds of __magical creature__ is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the __Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures__. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions. "I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject. As if this were not enough, the __Daily Prophet__ has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a __pure-blood__wizard__. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the __giantess__Fridwulfa__, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. _

_ Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of __He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named__, and were responsible for some of the worst mass __Muggle__ killings of his reign of terror. While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by __Aurors__ working against the Dark Side, __Fridwulfa__ was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during __Care of Magical Creatures__ lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_ In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of __You-Know-Who's supporters__, into hiding. Perhaps __Harry Potter__ is unaware of this unpleasant truth about his large friend - but __Albus Dumbledore__ surely has a duty to ensure that __Harry Potter__, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with __half-giants__._

Harry was shaking with rage as he lifted his eyes from the paper. Malfoy's smile faded slightly at the look of fury on Harry's face.

"Malfoy," Harry said in a strained yet calm voice. "You are quite fortunate that we are in class right now, or I would be tempted to repeat our previous two engagements, only _much, much_ more painfully."

"Is that a threat, Potter?" Malfoy asked, trying to sound dismissive. To Harry's ear, however, he sounded scared.

"Take it however you wish," Harry said in the same tone. He kept staring straight into Malfoy's eyes, forcing the other boy to blink and look away.

"Are you listening over there?" Professor Grubbly-Plank shouted. Harry turned to look in her direction, but didn't really see or hear her, he was so angry.

The fact that Hagrid was half-giant meant nothing to Harry. So what if his mother had been dangerous? Hagrid was a good man, and one of the best friends Harry had ever had. To think that that _bitch_ Rita Skeeter had dared to attack him like that made Harry want to do things he hadn't thought about since he stood over Sirius in the Shrieking Shack, when he still thought that his godfather was the reason he had no parents. This time, he didn't think that he would be able to hold back. Nor did he want to.

"That was a great lesson!" Hermione said excitedly as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "I…" Harry wordlessly shoved the paper into her hands. She took a moment to read it, blinking quite rapidly. "How did she find out?" she whispered when she was done. "Hagrid never told us, he wouldn't have told her…"

"That's no big surprise," Ron said seriously. "I mean, giants are horrible, it's in their nature. I know there's nothing wrong with Hagrid, but people who don't spend time with him might not." He shook his head. "This is going to get ugly."

"It already has," Harry snarled, his hands shaking slightly. "Hagrid didn't teach class." He growled. "We're going to see him after Divination, get him back." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Harry simply glared her down.

That evening, Harry led the way across the frozen grounds to Hagrid's hut. Upon reaching it, he started pounding on the door.

"Hagrid, it's us!" he shouted when Hagrid didn't open the door. "We want to talk to you! Please open the door!"

"Why's he ignoring us?" Ron asked after a few minutes. Harry could defiantly hear Fang inside, scratching at the door and whining, but there was no sign of Hagrid.

"Come on," Hermione said after ten more minutes of hammering on the door. "We should go, maybe try again tomorrow… Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry, losing his patience, had drawn his wand. "Hagrid, if you can hear me, you have ten seconds to open this door before I open it for you!"

"Are you mental?" Ron asked weakly, trying to pull Harry back.

"What if he's hurt?" Harry asked stubbornly. "What if it's not a matter of him not wanting to open the door, what if he _can't_? What if he's lying in there, hoping for someone to help him?" He turned back to the door. "ONE!"

"You can't just barge in like this!" Hermione squeaked.

"TWO!"

"Mate, don't make us…" Ron started.

"THREE! FOUR! FIVE!"

"Calm down!" Hermione said, her voice shaking.

"SIX! SEVEN!"

A warm chuckle sounded behind them. "Much as I admire your dedication, Harry, I must say that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have a point." Harry spun around.

Albus Dumbledore was striding serenely towards them. Harry immediately lowered his wand.

"What are you doing her, Professor?" he asked. Dumbledore smiled slightly.

"I believe we have much the same mission, Harry: attempt to persuade our friend Hagrid to speak with us." Ron and Hermione stumbled slightly in their haste to clear the way for Dumbledore to stand on the doorstep. "Perhaps he will be more inclined to listen to me."

Dumbledore raised his fist and knocked firmly, raising his voice just enough to be heard. "Hagrid, may we come in?"

There was a tense silence, before the door finally creaked open.

"Oh, my…" Hermione whispered, covering her mouth.

Hagrid was a mess. He had clearly been drinking heavily; Harry could smell the alcohol on his breath. His hair looked more like a tangled bird nest than anything else, and his eyes were bleary; it looked like he was having trouble focusing on anyone.

"'Fessor Dumbledore, sir?" he mumbled, blinking.

"Let's step inside, Hagrid," Dumbledore said gently, reaching out and supporting Hagrid back towards the central table. Harry immediately followed, though Ron and Hermione looked a bit more reluctant.

Hagrid's hut looked little better than it's owner did. Normally, there was a sense of order too it, born of a man who knew exactly what he needed to use at any given moment, and where to find it. Now, it was in disarray. There were bottles of Firewhisky scattered across the table, and several more on the floor. The bed wasn't made, and several other objects were obviously out of place. A tearstained copy of the Daily Prophet lay open near the bottles.

Dumbledore swept this aside as he lowered Hagrid into his seat, before gesturing towards the cupboard in the corner. Immediately, a teapot, two teabags, and several cups soared from its depths, and started preparing themselves. A moment later, the tea was ready and poured itself. Dumbledore then gently pushed it into Hagrid's hands before seating himself at Hagrid's side, sweaping the empty bottles aside with a wave of his wand. Harry took this as a cue to sit down on Hagrid's other side.

Hagrid hiccupped out a thanks before taking a sip. Another silence filled the air.

"We don't care, about your mum," Harry said finally. "No one who really knows you would." Hagrid stared at him, blinking again.

"Really?" he croaked.

"Of course!" Harry said firmly, patting Hagrid on the arm, since he couldn't reach his shoulder. "You're my friend, the first wizard I ever met. _Nothing_ will change that fact."

"Harry is correct," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he pulled something that looked like a letter out of his robes. "This arrived a few minutes ago, from Richard Ackerman. I believe you remember him?" Hagrid nodded. "Though it is addressed to me, I think that you should have a look at it, because I believe it to be the first of many." Hagrid unfolded the letter with shaking hands. It took him a while to read it, because he had to keep pausing to wipe tears from his eyes. Finally, he handed the letter, now dotted with stains, back to Dumbledore. He then put his face in his hands and started crying in earnest.

"How many others," he moaned. "How many wan me gone?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Does it really matter, Hagrid?" he said sternly. "Do you think that there has been a single week since I became headmaster that there hasn't been at least one owl complaining about the way I do things? What should I do, barricade myself in my study and refuse to speak to anybody?"

"Yeh're not half-giant!"

"That doesn't matter!" Harry said. "I'm related to the Dursleys, but that doesn't make me like them!"

"Exactly," Dumbledore said.

"Please, Hagrid," Hermione whispered, reaching across Harry and patting Hagrid on his arm. "Please come back." Ron nodded, his eyes serious.

Hagrid stared around at them all, tears still leaking from his eyes. Dumbledore rose, pulling another letter from his robes and placing it on the table. "I do not accept your resignation, Hagrid," he said firmly. "I expect you to join the rest of the staff and myself at the Head Table tomorrow, no excuses." He turned, scratched Fang behind the ear, and swept out of the hut.

"Great man, Dumbledore," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "He'll take anyone, so long they got the talent. Gives people second chances. Sets him apart from other heads."

"I know," Hermione said quietly, moving to the seat that Dumbledore had just vacated.

"He's righ', o course," Hagrid said, his voice strengthening. "I bin stupid. My ol' dad woulda been ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'…" He looked around at the trio. "Never showed you a picture of my old dad, did I?" He rose to his feet and stomped over to the dresser, pulling out a dog-eared photo and putting it reverently on the table.

It showed a massive boy, clearly Hagrid, carrying an older man on his shoulders while both laughed. Harry smiled slightly at the irony of that role reversal, the son carrying the father.

"Taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid croaked, running a finger along his father's face. "Dad thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum… He was so… so…"

A thick silence filled the hut before Hagrid finally looked up. "Yeh're all right. I'm not going to hide anymore. I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed of it." Harry grinned.

"That's wonderful, Hagrid," he said. Hagrid gave Harry a watery smile.

"Yeh remind me a bit o' me, Harry. Parents gone, feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in. And look at yeh now. Yeh know what, I think yeh can win. It'd show 'em all… all them blood purists. Show 'em Dumbledore's right, that anyone can be a wizard, so long as they got the will."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said. The massive man's smile widened, and he patted Harry on the shoulder.

* * *

><p>"I still think we should spend some more time in the library," Hermione said as the trio walked down the path to Hogsmeade on Saturday.<p>

"Come off it, Hermione," Ron said. "We've been in there a hundred times!"

"And we still haven't found anything!" Hermione hissed. "We're no closer to getting Harry through the task alive than we were last week!"

"Hermione, let it go," Harry said. "We'll take one day off, go to Hogsmeade, then go back to beating our heads against a wall."

Their search was still going nowhere, and Harry was beginning to get worried, though he didn't show it. There had to be _some_ method for surviving underwater for an hour. The fact that he was having to work on homework again didn't help his ability to concentrate on the tournament.

After a brief trip through the various stores, the trio settled into the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer. Harry let his eyes drift around the bar as he drank, and was surprised to see Ludo Bagman in a corner with several goblins. He was speaking very quickly, and looked nervous.

"Doesn't he ever go into the office?" Hermione asked incredulously when Harry pointed Bagman out to her. As if he had heard her, Bagman chose that moment to look up, noticing Harry. He got up, saying something else to the lead goblin before making his way over to Harry.

"Harry!" he said cheerfully. "Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"

"Fine," Harry said, studying the man. Though he was trying to look happy, Harry couldn't help but notice that he had shadows under his eyes, indicating that he hadn't been sleeping well recently. The goblins also seemed to be watching Bagman very carefully, and they were all scowling.

"Harry, do you think I could have a private word with you."

"Sure…" Harry said slowly, still watching the goblins. Bagman noticed where he was looking and sighed.

"Absolute nightmare," he said as he led Harry to a different table. "They don't speak English very well, and my Gobbledegook is lacking. It's like trying to understand the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup again. At least they used understandable sign language."

"What do they want?" Harry asked.

"They… er… want to speak with Mr. Crouch," Bagman said a little too quickly.

"They why would they be here?" Harry said slowly. "The Ministry's in London, right?"

"Yes, but Barty… er… hasn't been coming to work recently. His assistant Percy says that he's been sending letters, but I must admit I'm getting a bit worried." He smiled. "But that's not what I wanted to talk with you about!" He glanced around. "I was wondering how you were doing with the egg."

"Fine," Harry said.

"Harry, I really do feel bad about this, you being forced into the tournament, I mean," Bagman whispered. "I know you made it through the first task, and that was quite impressive. But still, this next task is going to be much more challenging. If there's anything I can do to help you…"

"Thank you for offering," Harry said firmly. "But I think it's best if I do this on my own." Bagman looked like he was about to argue, but Harry's eyes narrowed warningly.

"I guess you know what you're doing," he said cheerfully. Standing, he shook Harry's hand and left the Three Broomsticks, followed by the goblins. Harry slowly walked back to Ron and Hermione, thinking. Bagman had clearly been lying about what the goblins wanted, but was he telling the truth about Crouch?

"What did Bagman want?" Hermione asked.

"He was trying to help me with the egg." Hermione looked shocked.

"He's one of the judges! He shouldn't be doing that!"

"I know," Harry said. "But the weird thing is what he was saying about the goblins. He said that they were looking for Crouch, but I think he was lying."

"Well, they wouldn't be here if they were, they'd be at the Ministry," Ron said.

"According to Bagman, he's still not going to work."

"Keep your voice down," Ron hissed, nodding towards the door. Harry turned in time to see Rita Skeeter enter, deep in conversation with her photographer friend.

"He didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo?" she said as they took a seat at a table near the trio. "And why would he be with a pack of goblins? I don't believe that he was 'showing them the sights' at all, he was always a bad liar. Maybe we should do some digging. Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman… Snappy, don't you think? Now we just need a story to match it…"

Harry snarled under his breath. Whatever Bagman had done, he didn't deserve to be the victim of this miserable vulture.

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" he snarled, rising to his feet. Rita Skeeter glanced up.

"Harry!" she said, smiling. "How lovely! Why don't you come…"

"Not a chance," Harry growled, glaring at Rita Skeeter hatefully. "Why did you attack Hagrid like that?" Rita Skeeter shook her head.

"Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry," she said in a condescending voice. "I am merely…"

"There's nothing wrong with Hagrid!" Harry shouted, starting to lose his temper. "Anyone who's spent more than a minute with him should be able to see that!"

Rita Skeeter's eyes narrowed for a moment before she opened her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out the Quick-Quotes Quill. "How about you give me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry?"

"Why, so you can lie about that as well?" Harry snapped. "'Now we just need a story to match it.' You make up your story then contort the facts to match your preconceived notion of what will get people to read your drivel!"

"Now, Harry…" Rita Skeeter started, but Hermione interrupted.

"You horrible woman, you don't even have the guts to admit it. You'll attack anyone, even Ludo Bagman…"

"Sit down, you silly girl," Rita Skeeter said coldly, glaring at Hermione. "I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl."

"Come on, you two," Harry said, working to suppress his fury. "I can't stand the though of being in the same room with this… person." With that, he swept out of the bar, followed by his friends.

"I don't think this is going to end well," Ron said quietly. "She's going to be after you two next."

"I don't care," Hermione said, shaking with anger. "I'm not letting myself be intimidated by that miserable excuse for a human being!"

"Nor I," Harry said coldly.

"Well, good luck to the pair of you," Ron said. "If Rita Skeeter has anything to say about it, you're going to need it."

* * *

><p>On the sixteenth of February, the long search for a means of surviving underwater finally came to an end.<p>

It actually wasn't Harry, Ron, or Hermione who found the answer, but Neville. He happened to walk in on the trio looking through books in the library, and asked what they were trying to look up.

"Ways of breathing underwater," Ron said shortly, scanning a copy of Intermediate Charms.

"Well, there's gillyweed," Neville said immediately. "It comes from southern Greece, and it lets people grow gills and webbed limbs, great for underwater work."

Harry blinked. "Neville, you're a lifesaver," he breathed, snapping the Transfiguration book he had been going through shut. "Do you know where we could get some?"

Neville blinked. "Well, it's kind of rare, not something that would be easy to get," he said, glancing nervously between the three intent faces staring at him. "It has some uses in Potions, so Professor Snape might have some…"

Harry groaned. "And he'll never let me have any," he muttered, putting his face in his hands. "Is there any other source?"

Neville shrugged. "Well, it's from the Mediterranean, so it wouldn't survive long in these climates. You might be able to get some out to Hogwarts, but it needs to stay wet, so that would be troublesome…" He blinked at their desperate faces. "Professor Sprout might have a bit, do you want me to check?"

"Please do," Hermione said. "It's urgent!"

Neville came back the next day looking hopeful. "She does have a bit, of gillyweed, I mean," he said. "You never did say why you needed it."

"For the Tournament," Harry said, glancing around. Neville looked excited.

"Great!" he said. "Glad I could help,"

"Yeah," Ron said cheerfully. "I was beginning to think my eyes would fall out from all those books."

"Honestly…" Hermione muttered, though she was smiling slightly.

"So how do I get the gillyweed," Harry asked. "I mean, I'm not allowed to ask for teachers to help me…"

"I looked that up," Hermione said quickly. "And that's more aimed at asking for their help in interpreting clues or, heaven forbid, direct intervention in a Task. I'm pretty sure it doesn't extend to getting a bit of a plant she already has, especially if you don't explicitly mention why you want it. Now, if you were asking her to order it for you…"

"That's great," Harry said quickly.

The next day, Sunday, Harry went to the greenhouse and asked for some gillyweed. Professor Sprout studied him for a moment, before entering the fourth greenhouse and coming back with a water-filled jar containing what looked like a tangle of greenish worms. She smiled slightly, obviously knowing why he wanted it.

The rest of the week passed faster than Harry would have liked. True, he had a plan that should work, but the fact remained that he was going to be diving into a deep, dark lake with only a disgusting looking plant to save him.

The night before the Task was horrible. Harry dully worked through the homework he had been given, but he found it very difficult to concentrate. He wondered what Professor McGonagall had wanted with Ron and Hermione, she had asked them to stay after Transfiguration, and they had left again a few minutes ago. Finally, at eight o'clock, he gave up and went to bed, carefully checking the jar of gillyweed and the warmed cloth that Neville had said it should be wrapped in.

A series of disturbing dreams haunted him that night, a combination of dark, wet nightmares interspaced with the more traditional chaotic flashes and noises that came from whatever was affecting him. These worried Harry slightly, they were clearer than they had been for a long while, just shy of being understandable. Still, Harry was able to sleep till about half past six, which he considered a triumph.

He immediately checked his locked trunk, wondering what had been taken from him. To his surprise, none of his most important possessions; the Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, or the Firebolt, were missing. Maybe he had been right, and preventative measures were acceptable. Or maybe they'd take it during breakfast, though Harry wasn't hungry.

He sat in the Common Room, studying the gillyweed and waiting for Ron and Hermione. Slowly, other students started trickling down the steps, wishing Harry good luck as they passed. There was no sign of either of his friends. Finally, at nine, Harry was forced to admit defeat and head towards the lake.

'Where are they?' he thought to himself as he glanced into the Great Hall, just to check if they had somehow evaded him and gone to breakfast. There was no sign of them.

_ 'We've taken what you'll sorely miss…' _

Ice shot through Harry's veins. No, they wouldn't dare…

But where in the clue had it said that they wouldn't take people? All it had said was that they would steal something he would miss. And what had he missed most during the month of November, but Ron.

_ "Beyond that, the prospects black, too late it's gone, it won't come back…"_

Horror and rage filled Harry as he sprinted across the grounds towards the lake. "Like hell," he muttered. "Like hell those scaly animals are taking my friends from me!"

As the rest of the school poured from the doors of the castle, Harry paced furiously by the lake. The stands had been set up again, and people were slowly beginning to fill them. Harry barely noticed, he was so consumed with worry and anger.

Finally, at nine thirty, Ludo Bagman raised his voice and called for everyone's attention.

"As you know, the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!" Harry tore his eyes away from the lake to look at Bagman. Behind him sat the other judges, though Percy was once again standing in for Mr. Crouch. "The Champions shall have to dive deep within the Black Lake and retrieve what has been taken from them!" A cheer rose through the crowd, and Harry growled under his breath, wondering if the crowd really understood just what had been taken.

Bagman turned and started spacing the champions out about ten feet from each other along the lake.

"Are you alright, Harry?" he whispered to Harry, who coldly ignored him. "Alright, then!" Bagman called, his voice magically enhanced again. "We begin in three…two…one…GO!"

All the champions moved forward into the lake. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw them begin to move their wands near their faces. He, meanwhile, had already removed the gillyweed from its jar, so he simply shoved it into his mouth and started chewing. It tasted disgusting, but he couldn't bring himself to care. As the water reached his neck, he felt the burning that, according to Neville, indicated the plant was working. Harry coldly ducked his head into the water.

Harry didn't pause to marvel at his gills or webbings, instead he savagely started swimming along the bottom. Hermione was right, it was actually fairly easy, though Harry didn't know if that was another side effect of the gillyweed or not.

He was soon passing over a field of long, dark seaweed. A distant part of his mind was telling him that he should be careful, that there was probably more than merpeople in this lake. The rest of him, however, was more focused on finding his friends.

The cautious part was vindicated a moment later when a small swarm of grindylows rose from the grass and surrounded him.

Harry had learned last year how to deal with these little monsters, but Professor Lupin had only had them face one or two at a time, not a dozen. The second he pointed his wand at any of them, another group would attack him from behind, trying to get a strong grip and drag him into the weeds.

Harry, growing impatient, let his rage and frustration fill him. "GET AWAY!" he roared. Though only bubbles came from his mouth, he got the satisfaction of watching a pulse of blue light explode outwards, scattering and stunning the grindylows. The floated aimlessly, twitching and shaking their little heads. Ignoring them, Harry swam onwards, listening for any clue that he was going in the right direction.

Finally, he heard something drifting from his left. "_An hour long you'll have to look_…" Turning immediately, he shot in that direction.

Before long, he started seeing rough stone dwellings. Merpeople watched him as he entered. They bore no resemblance to the beautiful, delicate girl who graced the painting in the Prefect's bathroom. Their skin was a rough grey, their hair as green as the algae that covered their homes. They were carrying vicious looking stone spears.

Harry flipped over so that his face was pointing upwards, so that he could more easily scan his surroundings. More merpeople were exiting their homes, studying him with interest. The song, meanwhile, was growing louder as Harry started noticing larger houses. He must be getting close to the center of town.

He paused for a moment at the edge of the "square," even his burning desire to see his friends to safety dampened by the sight that met his eyes. The merpeople had carved a massive statue in the center, the murky water and rough carving giving it an almost organic appearance. Dozens of merpeople floated around, singing the song that had drawn Harry to them.

Shaking his head, Harry looked for Ron and Hermione, finally seeing them tied to the tail of the statue along with two others. One looked like Cho Chang, and the other was a little girl with long silver hair. All four were asleep, but still seemed to be breathing; they had bubbles rising from their mouths.

'For how much longer?' a cold voice said at the back of Harry's head as he swam over to them. The merpeople watched him, their spears shifting in their hands as their silvery tails twitched.

The slime-covered ropes that bound the hostages to the statue were very strong, and the knots complicated. Still, a few well-aimed _Diffindos_ slashed through Ron's bindings, allowing him to drift away from the statue.

The second Harry turned to Hermione, however, strong hands grabbed him and pulled him away from the statue.

"Only one," a merman said.

"Like hell!" Harry tried to say, but once again, only bubbles came out. The merpeople laughed.

Suddenly, murmuring broke out among the gathered merpeople, and a moment later, Cedric swam in. He glanced around, looking confused, but shrugged and swam over to Cho, cut her loose with a knife, and swam upwards.

"See?" the same merman said to Harry. "That is how it is done."

Meanwhile, two younger merfolk had gently grabbed Ron by his arms and dragged him over to Harry.

"I'm not leaving anyone," Harry snarled, cursing the bubbles that had replaced his voice. Once again, he tried to get around the crowd of merpeople, but they kept laughing and intercepting him. "Out of my way!"

A scream echoed from the other side of the square, causing the mers to jerk and look around. Before Harry could think to use this distraction to his advantage and try to get to the other hostages, he noticed what had spooked them. It looked like Krum had attempted to turn himself into a shark, but hadn't done it properly. Instead, it looked like someone had grafted a shark's head to a human body. Still, it looked like he knew what he was doing, as he carefully swam up to Hermione and hovered for a moment, his mouth open. He seemed to realize that he wouldn't be able to bite the ropes without hurting Hermione, so he darted to the lakebed and grabbed a sharp stone, using it to cut her free. A second later, he was gone.

Harry glanced around, worried. He didn't know how much time was left, or where Fleur was.

"Come on, Fleur…" he muttered, bubbles rising from his mouth. "Were are you? What's taking so long?"

"Go!" one of the merpeople said, starting to sound frustrated. She shoved Ron into Harry, pointing upwards. Harry simply glared at her before turning back, searching desperately for any sign of the Beauxbatons champion.

"I need to know…" he muttered, "if she's coming or not."

An odd prickling in his eyes caused Harry to blink. A moment later, he blinked again, this time in confusion.

The murky water had suddenly become clearer, as if a great light was penetrating the darkness. Looking around, Harry also noticed that every living creature in the area suddenly seemed to have an aura. Spinning, he watched the mers twitch, slowly retreating from him. Somehow, he could tell they were scared.

A sudden thought came to Harry's mind, and he looked outwards again. The auras were dimmer the farther away he looked, but he could still see them. He saw what looked like Cedric and Krum, along with their hostages, floating above him. He even thought he saw a massive shape that might have been the giant squid, far in the distance.

There was no sign of Fleur, and he could only think that she wasn't coming.

"Enough," he snarled, turning back to the little girl. The mers closed ranks again, shaking their heads.

"Out. Of. My. Way." Harry said, drawing his wand and pointing it at them. He distantly recognized that his arm was wreathed in blue fire, but he didn't care. There wasn't much time left.

The merpeople looked scared, but held firm for a moment. Harry dissuaded them by firing a jet of boiling water just over their heads, causing them to scatter. Darting forward, Harry cut the girl's ropes, grabbed the pair, and started towards the surface.

It was slow work, now that he couldn't use his hands. Still, he pushed on, not daring to pause. The merpeople were rising slowly around him, watching. Harry was able to point his wand at the few who came close, driving them back, but he was distracted by a burning along his gills.

'You've got to be kidding me,' he groaned mentally, watching the webbing recede from his hands. 'Not now.'

His vision started to dim as he pushed onwards. His legs were burning, his eyes prickled, but there was defiantly light above him. Another mer darted closer, but Harry drove her off with a clumsy wave of his wand.

Ten feet left… he couldn't breath. Eight feet… what was that at the edge of his view? Six feet… 'I'm not going to make it…' Five feet… 'Yes, yes I am!' Three… two… one…

Just as Harry's lungs felt like they were going to explode, his head broke the surface, cold, stinging, _wonderful_ air on his face. He simply floated for a moment, listening to the distant sounds from the stands.

He was drawn back to reality by Ron's voice. "Wet, isn't it?"

Harry turned to glare good-naturedly at his friend, who snickered. A sudden squeak drew their attention. The little girl was looking around, terrified, at the merpeople who had surfaced all around the trio.

"What did you bring her for?" Ron asked.

"What was I supposed to do, leave her down there?" Harry said, slowly swimming towards the shore, keeping a careful eye on the merpeople. They simply smiled, waving slightly, but he didn't trust them, hadn't forgotten how they laughed at him down at the bottom of the lake.

"Harry, you prat!" Ron said, breaking free to swim on his own. "The song was just to give you some incentive to hurry! They didn't actually _mean_ it!"

"They had me fooled," Harry muttered.

A moment later, they were met by two very frightened siblings. Fleur grabbed her sister in a tight hug, whispering to her in French. Percy, meanwhile, had pulled Ron from the water and was almost dragging him inland. This left Harry free to look around.

Dumbledore was crouching next to the lake, speaking with a particularly large merwoman. The rest of the champions and hostages, meanwhile, were wrapped in thick blankets.

Madam Pomfrey chose this moment to seize Harry and drag him over to the others, wrapping a blanket around him and forcing a bottle of Pepperup Potion down his throat. Muttering about dangerous tasks and foolish risk taking, she turned to get Ron and Fleur's sister.

"You did it, Harry!" Hermione squealed. "I was getting worried. Did it take you ages to find us?"

"No…" Harry muttered. Now that he was out of the lake and had time to really think about it, he realized that he had been stupid. Of _course_ Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed any of the hostages to die just because their champion didn't show up. Why had he taken the stupid song so damn seriously? Distantly, he noted Krum mutter something about a beetle, trying to get Hermione's attention, but she just brushed it out of her hair and ignored him.

"A conference before we give the marks, I think!" Dumbledore called, rising to his feet. The judges gathered together around their table.

Madam Pomfrey led the others over to the group. Fleur was a mess, she had dozens of cuts along her arms and legs, and her robes were badly torn. Still, she insisted that Madam Pomfrey look after her sister.

"You saved 'er!" she said to Harry, smiling. "You saved my little sister, even though she was not your 'ostage!"

Harry nodded, blushing slightly. This intensified as Fleur threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss on each cheek.

He was spared any further gratitude or needling by Bagman's magnified voice rising over the din of the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Merchieftainess Murcus has told us what happened at the bottom of the lake. Using this knowledge, as well as times, we have reached our decision." Bagman took a deep breath.

"Fleur Delacour, though she showed mastery of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows before she could reach her hostage. Therefore, we have decided to award her a twenty five."

"I deserve a zero," Harry heard Fleur say over the cheers. Bagman waited for these to die down before continuing.

"Cedric Diggory also used the Bubble-Head Charm, and was first to return with the hostages, one minute outside the time limit of an hour. Therefore, we grant him a score of forty-nine." More cheers, mostly from the Hufflepuffs, greeted this declaration.

"Viktor Krum used incomplete Transfiguration, which proved effective. He returned second, seven minutes outside the time limit. He earned a score of forty."

"Harry Potter used gillyweed, and was the last to return. However, according to the merpeople, he was, in fact, the first to reach the hostages. His lateness was due to his determination to see all the hostages to safety, not merely his own." Harry kept his head down, feeling the burn of dozens of eyes on him. "While most of the judges believe this to be a show of moral fiber and meriting full marks, we decided to grant him a forty-five." Harry's head jerked up, surprised.

"You hear that, Harry?" Ron said cheekily through the cheering. "You weren't being thick after all, you were just showing moral fiber!"

"Shut up," Harry muttered.

"That places Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory in first with eighty-five apiece, followed by Viktor Krum with eighty, and Fleur Delacour with sixty-four." Bagman raised his hand to silence the continued cheering. "The third and final task will take place on the twenty-fourth of June, though champions will be informed what is coming one month before. Good day, this concludes the Second Task." Quieting himself, he turned to have a conversation with Dumbledore.

Madam Pomfrey immediately started ushering the champions and hostages back towards the castle, instructing them in no uncertain terms that they were not going to be doing anything remotely strenuous for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Harry groaned slightly, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He sat up in his bed and reached blindly for his glasses, sitting outside the curtain. He put them on, pushed back the hangings, and blinked.<p>

"What the…" he muttered, staring around the empty dorm room. Aside from his own four-poster bed and the central boiler, there was nothing else: no beds, no furniture, no windows, and no dorm mates.

"Ron?" he called, sliding instantly out of bed and looking around. There was no answer. Harry's eyes narrowed as he walked to his trunk, determined to get dressed and go find out what was happening. It took him a moment to realize that he was already in his robes, even though he could have sworn that he put on his pajamas last night.

Now getting seriously worried, Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket and moved quietly to the door, pushing it open a crack. He found himself at the top of a stairwell, even though there should have been several other rooms above him. It took Harry a moment to realize that the stairs were almost completely dark; the torches that normally lit the way were out.

Harry looked downwards, taking a few seconds to still his breath. Finally, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the stairs.

As soon as he did, the torches along the wall lit themselves. They didn't burn their normal, cheerful red, however, but an icy cold blue. Harry had only seen this particular color of fire once before; on the candles leading to Nearly Headless Nick's death day party.

"Hello?" he called, surprised and slightly ashamed of how much his voice was shaking. There was no answer.

Finally, he mustered his courage and started down the stairwell, passing the icy torches. They didn't seem to be giving off any heat.

"If this is a prank, I'm going to kill the ones responsible!" Harry called as he continued downstairs.

The stairwell went on much longer than it should have, what felt like four flights and he hadn't reached the bottom. As he took a breath, something caught his attention.

There was a steady sound running through the stair well. A measured _thump… thump… thump_… almost like a massive, beating heart. Harry tightened his grip on his sweaty wand, steeled his nerves, and continued downwards. The sound of the heart grew louder as he descended further and further.

Finally, he reached a closed door. As he placed his hand against it to push it open, he could feel a pulse, beating in rhythm with the heart. Whatever was going on, he would figure out the answer in here. Taking another deep breath, he pushed the door open, pointing his wand around as he did.

The sight took his breath away. A large, stone, round room, lit by two-dozen blue torches. There were lacy curtains hanging between the torches, and they were blowing in a nonexistent wind. What really caught Harry's eye, however, was the dais in the middle of the room. On it laid a simple black rectangle, almost like a sarcophagus. Upon it lay a strange, spiraling object. From the dais extended several long, thin lines of blue fire, leading to each of the torches.

Breathing very quickly, Harry stepped into the chilled room, even though every instinct was telling him to turn and run back to his dorm, hide under the covers, and pretend nothing had happened. The beating heart sound was loudest here, and the floor itself was vibrating in time with the pulses.

_ "Haaarrrrrrrryyy Poootttttteeeerrrr…"_

Harry jumped, a small squeak escaping his lips, as the ghostly voice echoed through the room. Turning wildly, he searched for the source.

"Show yourself!" he demanded, though his voice sounded weak, even to his own ears.

"_Soooo looonnnnggg…"_ the voice moaned. _"Sttaaayyyy…"_

"I'm not going anywhere!" Harry said, still searching for the speaker.

A sudden, grinding sound filled the room. Harry turned slowly from the corner he had been looking at back to the central dais. His eyes widened at what he saw.

The lid of the sarcophagus was slowly moving to the side, stone crunching slightly as it scraped the lip of the massive coffin. The object on top rolled slowly off, clattering as it hit the floor. Harry's eyes widened as he got a good look at it. It looked like some kind of unholy staff, the curled shaft splitting into three snake heads, jutting out unevenly to form a disturbing image that spoke of chaos and destruction.

Harry was distracted by the sound of the sarcophagus continuing to open. Finally, a metallic hand reached from the depths of the stone box to continue pushing it open.

Harry snapped. Screaming, he bolted out the door and back up the spiral stairs.

_"Cooommee baaccckkk…"_ the voice whispered, still ringing in Harry's ears despite the rushing of his heart and his continued cries.

Harry rushed up the stairs, stumbling slightly in his haste. What was going on? Where was he? What was that _thing_ in the crypt?

He jerked as he heard the clanging of metal footsteps behind him, the spectral voice drifting up the stairwell. Whatever it was, it was coming for him. He lowered his head and ran.

He finally reached the dormitory, glad that he had left the door open. He slipped inside, slamming the door. The last thing he saw was a shadow, growing as it passed one of the torches. Harry immediately started slamming bolts into place, praying that whatever the monster was, it wasn't strong enough to break through the door. Finishing, he pressed his back against the solid wood, closing his eyes as the clanging reached the top of the stairs. Any moment now, it would start trying to beat the door down.

"Harry!"

Harry's eyes jerked open, blazing with blue fire.

_AN_: Ladies and gentlemen, Justice (puts on sunglasses) has awakened.

(Sorry, I couldn't resist).

Please read and review!


	8. Death in the Shadows

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, Dragon Age, nor the characters belong to me; they belong to people much smarter and more creative than I am. I am in no way profiting from this story.

Reviewer Response:

Neristhaed: Harry certainly won't be at his best for a while.

Andrew Mackenzie: You'll see : ).

TheDudeMan400: Harry might use the Sword of Gryffindor much later, I haven't decided yet. I want to make Harry stronger, not completely overpowered (Voldemort would be screaming for a nerf ;) ). Justice probably won't think this is the future; he would have gone to the Fade otherwise.

crazyjim87: Probably not, they're a combination of too old for him and people he doesn't know well enough to start a relationship.

Life is a Paradox: I'm glad you like it, and thanks for the review.

Andrew Mackenzie: I think it was a bit more violet; the only people in fiction land I've seem make true pink look awesome are Kirby and Nanoha Takamachi. Harry/Justice will probably stick to blue.

Lucy's Echos: Thank you for the compliment. I'll endeavor to keep the story interesting.

Rizaidym: Yes, Justice has finally entered the story, though Harry is going to be seeking to keep him out for a while longer, out of fear.

Danger the critic: I'm not sure how much I can do on the Ron Hermione front. As one of the previous reviewers reminded me; though Harry has changed, the rest of the cast is still canon. That means that Ron and Hermione like each other, even if they're both too proud to admit it. Hopefully Harry and Justice will be able to temper Ron's more undesirable traits.

Bloodmoon234: I know what you mean, and I thought about it while coming up with the story idea. The thing is; I'm not sure he was telling the truth. In Act 2, the Fade sequence, Justice acted a lot different than Anders did, and throughout Act 3, it's hinted that the two were actively fighting for control of the body, not exactly indicative of a single person. Even if I'm mistaken, Harry and Justice will be separate people.

tgcgoddess: My original idea was for Anders to arrive before OotP, survive, and become the DADA teacher. However, I quickly realized that he would completely steal the show. He'll probably eventually reach the kittens, but he'll have to do some community service first. Hopes aren't as good for the leather pants, however.

narutofan020: Yeah, Justice could have handled that a lot better. To be fair, he was just waking up and had only a limited understanding of his current situation.

Chapter 7: Death in the Shadows

Harry's hand lashed out desperately, forcing Ron to take a quick step back.

"Hey mate! Calm down!" Ron said, raising his own hands defensively. Harry blinked several times, watching the ghostly blue reflection fade from Ron's face.

He was back in his real dormitory, being watched fearfully by Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. The covers of his bed were scattered across the room.

"What… what happened?" Neville asked, his back pressed against his four-poster.

Harry shook his head. Even though he was barely awake, he realized that telling his dorm mates that he was hearing voices would lead to most of the school knowing by lunch. "Nightmares," he said. Ron gave him a long look, but didn't press for details.

"What are we going to do?" he asked instead.

"We'll have to go to Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. Ron blinked.

"Wow, it must have been bad if you're willingly going to her," he said quietly. Harry slid so that he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah, it was bad," he said quietly. "Worse than when I first had to go to her."

Ron muttered something that Hermione would have disapproved of. "We need to figure out what's going on, before it gets even worse." Harry nodded.

The other boys drifted back to sleep, but Ron and Harry went down to the common room. They didn't talk much, just waited for Hermione to join them.

Once again, Harry was surprised when Fred and George were the first people to enter the common room. They looked surprised themselves, and there was a tense silence before Fred muttered something to George. They nodded, giving Harry and Ron a forced smile, and retreated to their corner.

"What's up with those two?" Ron muttered. "They've been doing this all year, sneaking off on their own. Won't tell anyone what they're doing."

"Maybe something to do with the joke shop?" Harry said, but Ron shook his head.

"They wouldn't care if we knew about that," he said. "The only people they have to keep that from are Percy and Mum. No one else would care. No, they're up to something else."

Another silence fell as the pair waited for Hermione, keeping an eye on the twins as they did. Several more people drifted downstairs over the hour, but eventually the bushy haired witch arrived. She saw Harry and walked over, shaking her head as she came.

"Again?" she muttered as she sat down.

"Worse this time," Harry said bitterly. "I have to go talk to Madam Pomfrey." Hermione's jaw dropped.

"I know," Ron said to her.

"Well, let's go!" Hermione said, clearly worried.

Madam Pomfrey was sitting at her desk at the back of the ward when the trio entered. She glanced up, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she swiftly rose to her feet and stalked over.

"What's gone wrong this time?" she asked.

Harry took a moment to answer, finally deciding to be entirely honest. "Whatever it is that's… in me," he said slowly "spoke to me."

A tense silence filled the hospital wing. "Could you elaborate, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey said worriedly.

Harry spent five minutes explaining his dream in as much detail as he could. When he finished, everyone just stared at him for a few seconds.

"So, you believe that this isn't a curse, but… a presence?" Madam Pomfrey asked. Harry nodded. "And you say it pursued you during your dream? Did you feel threatened by it?"

"I don't know," Harry said "I… I panicked…"

Madam Pomfrey watched him for a few seconds before turning and grabbing the same scarf-like-thing that she had made him wear before and wrapped it firmly around his head. "Let's see what's changed." Harry nodded. "Do you have any idea what might have caused this sudden shift?"

"Well, during the Second Task," Harry started, "I was trying to figure out whether Fleur was coming or not, and… something happened." He paused. "The force, or whatever it is, has shown itself earlier by increasing the power of a spell I'm using at the time. Down in the lake, it did something else; it showed me where people were."

"Interesting," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. "Powerful, experienced wizards have been know to develop a sixth sense that allows them to detect recent magic, but I've never heard of anything like what you described, especially not in someone as young as you." She shook her head. "Are you certain that nothing else happened?"

Harry paused again. "I was attacked by some grindylows, before reaching the village. I… actively called upon the force to repel them."

"You…" Madam Pomfrey gasped, "You actively used something, even though you had no clue what it was, or what the potential long term consequences could be?" Harry nodded nervously. "Mr. Potter, that was an incredibly foolish thing to do!" She took a deep breath. "I suppose that what is done is done, but I would recommend against doing it again." She said this in a way that told Harry that, if he did, she would be very upset with him.

She shook her head after a moment and unwrapped the scarf. She then took it over to her desk and laid it on a long piece of parchment before tapping it with her wand. After a moment, she put the scarf away and picked up the parchment, which Harry saw was now covered in lines. She stared at it, her lips moving soundlessly.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked nervously after a minute of this.

"This is…" Madam Pomfrey said, putting the parchment on the desk and sank into her chair, rubbing her temple as she continued to gape at the lines. After a moment, she pulled out another piece of parchment and placed it under the first. Harry came close enough to get a peek at the parchments, but couldn't make much sense of the squiggly lines all over them.

"I thought the first readings were the most mysterious things I've ever seen," Madam Pomfrey muttered, still massaging her temple. "But these new ones…" She looked up at last. "Well, Mr. Potter, I have good news and bad news, which do you want to hear first?"

"The bad," Harry said.

"Whatever this thing is, it's almost tripled in strength since the last reading." Madam Pomfrey said in a matter of fact voice.

"Wow…" Harry heard Ron mutter under his breath.

"And the good news?" Hermione asked weakly.

Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath. "It seems to be contained. Whereas before, it was evenly distributed, now it seems to be corralled into certain areas." She raised her hand as Harry opened his mouth. "Not physical areas of your body, but… it's hard to explain, but the human psyche is divided into different parts, and the force seems to be contained in certain sections of your psyche."

"Which parts?" Harry asked.

"If I had to guess, and this is an imprecise subject at the best of times, is that it's in your subconscious." She shook her head. "As to how it got stuck there, my best theory is that, during your dream, the shutting and bolting of the door was a metaphor for your shutting of your subconscious from the rest of your mind." She sighed. "There's not much else I can tell you, Mr. Potter. You were a unique case before, and now I'm just theorizing. You can go, but come back this evening, or immediately if something else happens."

"Okay," Harry said.

As he turned to leave, however, a whisper chilled his blood.

_"Can… you… hear… me?"_

* * *

><p>The next week passed in a haze of fear and confusion for Harry. Whatever had infected his mind was almost constantly trying to speak to him, and every night he found himself in the dream dormitory again, his door being battered by… whatever it was. Most of the time, he couldn't understand exactly what it was saying, only a distant voice. Madam Pomfrey had no answers. Continued tests showed that the force had stalled; it wasn't growing, but it wasn't weakening either.<p>

Eventually, following whims beyond Harry's understanding, the words faded, almost as if the thing had given up. It would still occasionally speak, but Harry would screw his eyes shut and tell it to shut up and leave him alone, and it usually would.

March arrived, brining both dry weather and vicious winds. Owls would often arrive at the tables with their feathers sticking out in odd directions, and a few were even injured.

Harry distantly remembered sending Sirius a letter about when the next Hogsmeade trip before the Second Task; he had been thinking about other things. Therefore, it came as a surprise to him when a letter arrived, carried by a particularly wind-swept barn owl. It told Harry to come to the end of the road out of Hogsmeade, and to bring food.

"He hasn't come back, has he?" Hermione said after glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

Harry was just staring mutely at the letter. A tiny part of him was glad that his godfather was in the area, but most of him was far more worried about the potential repercussions of this.

"Well, he's made it this far," Ron said bracingly. "And the dementors aren't around anymore, so it shouldn't be too dangerous." Despite these words of comfort, Harry remained on edge as he went through his classes that day. Things only got worse during the last lesson of the day, double Potions.

It started before Harry and his friends even got through the door. The Slytherins were already there, and seemed to be discussing something. Pansy Parkinson looked up, giggling as she saw the trio approaching.

"Hey, Granger!" she called, lobbing a rolled up magazine to Hermione. "There's something in there that might interest you!"

Hermione easily caught the magazine, which turned out to be the Witch Weekly. She opened it, and Harry was disgusted to see his own face, surrounded by a heart-shaped border, over the title HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE.

"Oh, not again," he groaned as Snape ushered them in.

_A boy like none other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes __Rita Skeeter__. Deprived of love ever since the tragic demise of his parents fourteen-year-old __Harry Potter__ thought he had found solace in his steady girl friend at __Hogwarts__Muggle-born__Hermione Granger__. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another personal loss. Miss Granger a plain but ambitious girl seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at __Hogwarts of__Victor Krum__ Bulgarian seeker and winner of the last __Quidditch World Cup__ Miss Granger has been toying with both boys affections._

_Krum who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger has already invited her to visit him in __Bulgaria__ over the summer holidays and insists that he has never felt this way about any other girl. Plus he invited her to be his dance partner at the __Yule Ball__ last Christmas. However it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful nature charms which have captured these unfortunate boys interest. She's really ugly, says __Pansy Parkinson__ a pretty and vivacious fourth year student, but well up to making a love potion she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it. __Love potions__ are of course banned at __Hogwarts__ and no doubt __Albus Dumbledore__ will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime __Harry Potter__'s well wishers must hope that next time he will he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate._

Hermione shook her head as she sat down. "Is this the best she's got?" she said disdainfully, giving the Slytherins a wave.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. "Aren't you bothered by this?"

"No," Hermione snorted. "That was pathetic." She cocked her head. "Though I am interested to know how she heard Viktor ask me to visit Bulgaria over the summer."

Ron gaped at her, dropping the ginger root he had been taking out of his bag. "You mean he actually did ask you?" he gasped.

"Yes, he did," Hermione said, blushing under Ron's horrified gaze. "And he did… he did say that he had never felt the same way about anyone else…"

"What did you say?" Ron asked immediately. Harry saw Snape's head turn from Neville, but his attempts to warn his friends went unheeded.

"I was too busy seeing if you and Harry were okay…" Hermione said, her face still red. Harry shook his head as Snape swept over, though he did marvel slightly how the sallow-faced Potions master was able to move both swiftly and silently at the same time, almost as if he was gliding.

"Fascinating though you're social life is, Miss Granger," he said silkily as he arrived. Ron and Hermione jumped; they hadn't noticed Snape's approach. "I must _implore_ you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor." His eyes darted to the chair next to Hermione, where the magazine lay. "And reading magazines? Tut, tut, I though you were better than this, ten more points." He scooped it up amid gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "_Harry Potter's Secret Heartache?_ Oh dear, Potter, what ails you now…"

He then proceeded to read out the entire article, pausing at the end of each sentence for the Slytherins to laugh. Harry watched Malfoy gasp for breath, rather hoping that the boy would faint for lack of air and shut up.

"How very touching," Snape sneered as he finished. "Well, I think I had better split you up, so that you might concentrate on your potions. Weasley, stay here, Granger, go over by Miss Parkinson, Potter, up front. Move."

Harry sat at his new desk, determined to not looking at Snape as he crushed scarab beetles.

"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already over-large head, Potter," Snape said quietly. Harry continued ignoring him. "You might be laboring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is quite impressed with you, but to me, Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."

Harry's eyes narrowed even though he kept his head down.

"I'll give you fair warning, Potter," Snape said, seemingly annoyed that Harry wasn't responding. "If I catch you breaking into my office, you will be sorry."

That got Harry's attention, he had never broken into Snape's office. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sir," he said.

"Do not lie to me, Potter," Snape snarled, leaning forward. "Boomslang skin. Bicorn horn. These things can only be found in my office."

Harry blinked, confused. Hermione had taken both those things two years ago, but Snape couldn't just be finding out about this.

"You and your little friends are making Polyjuice Potion, and I am going to find out why. And when I do, I will have the great pleasure of expelling you."

'Well, you're going to be looking for a while,' Harry thought coolly. "I'll keep that in mind if I decide to start making this Polyjuice Potion of yours, sir."

Snape's eyes narrowed as his hand slipped into his robes, pulling out a small, clear bottle. "Do you know what this is?" he asked silkily, shaking the bottle so Harry could see the clear potion within. Harry shook his head, confused. "It's called Veritaserum, a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets to the entire class." Harry's eyes narrowed. He wouldn't put it past Snape to slip him some of this potion, to devastating effect.

He was prevented from saying anything, however, by the sudden arrival of Karkaroff.

"We need to talk," he whispered to Snape, who was looking annoyed.

"I'll speak with you after class," he muttered.

"Now," Karkaroff said. "Before you sneak off again."

Harry remembered the conversation he and Ginny had overheard during the Yule ball, and was interested in hearing the rest of it. As the rest of the class started leaving at the end of class, he deliberately knocked over a bottle of armadillo bile so that he could listen in.

"What's so urgent?" Snape snarled as Karkaroff stepped away from the wall he had been waiting by.

"This," Karkaroff muttered, holding out his left arm, though Harry couldn't see what it was. "It's growing clearer."

"Put that away!" Snape hissed, glaring around. "Potter, what are you doing?"

"Cleaning up armadillo bile, sir," Harry said innocently, holding up the rag. The two men glared at Harry for a moment, before Karkaroff left. Harry quickly packed up and left before Snape could have an excuse to punish him.

As he headed upstairs towards dinner, he considered what he had overheard. Karkaroff was clearly afraid of something or someone returning.

Was it Voldemort? According to Sirius, Karkaroff had been a Death Eater who had betrayed Voldemort to save his own skin, so he would probably be terrified of his return. But if that was true, then Snape was a Death Eater too, and either Dumbledore had never known, or more disturbingly, he had know and let him teach anyways.

He felt a brief pressure at the back of his mind, and a "voice" drifted through his thoughts, though he couldn't understand a word of what it said. Nor did he want to. "Shut up!" Harry hissed, banging his fist against his head in a vain attempt to dislodge the voice.

* * *

><p>The next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the rest of the crowd heading into Hogsmeade. Harry carried his bag, which contained several chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of pumpkin juice for Sirius.<p>

After their customary visit to the major stores, the trio set off past Dervish and Bangs to the location that Sirius had specified in his letter. When they arrived, they were happy to see a massive black dog clutching a newspaper in his mouth.

"Hey, Sirius," Harry said, smiling. Sirius barked awkwardly through the newspaper, sniffed Harry's bag, and turned to lead them out of town, towards the mountain at the edge of Hogsmeade. After a short trek, they found a well-hidden cave, which Sirius slipped into.

Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in a corner, gnawing on what looked like a dead rat. After bowing to him, and getting his return bow, Hermione rushed over to pet his neck. Harry, meanwhile, had pulled the food from his bag and handed it to his thin-looking godfather.

"Thanks, Harry," Sirius said happily, grabbing a chicken leg and ripping off a large chunk. "I've been living off rats, mostly. Can't steal too much food, or people might get suspicious." He grinned at Harry, who was too worried to return it.

"What are you doing here, Sirius?" he asked.

"Fulfilling my duty as godfather, " Sirius said, his cheeky grin fading at the look of worry on Harry's face. "I want to be on the spot, things are getting fishier by the day." He nodded towards the Prophets, which Ron had picked up and was studying. "I've been stealing those whenever I can, and by the sound of it, I'm not the only one who's worried. " Harry glanced over at the papers, noticing the headlines of MYSTERIOUS ILLNESS OF BARTEMIUS CROUCH, and MINISTRY WITCH STILL MISSING.

"They make it sound like he's dying," Ron said, scanning the Crouch article. "Percy says he's just suffering from overwork, sending letters in to tell everyone what he wants done…"

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" Hermione said fiercely. "Bet he regrets sacking her now. "

Ron rolled his eyes, but Sirius looked interested. "Crouch sacked his house elf?" he asked.

"Yes, right after the Dark Mark showed up," Harry said, briefly explaining what happened, though he neglected to mention Anders' body. Hermione shot him a look, but didn't comment. Sirius blinked thoughtfully gnawing on one of the chicken bones as he did.

"So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "Crouch goes to the trouble of having his house elf save him a spot at the World Cup, and then doesn't show up?" The trio nodded, and Sirius thought for a while longer. "Harry, did you check your pocket for your wand immediately upon leaving the Top Box?"

"No," Harry said. "I didn't need it till the chaos started." He blinked. "You think someone in the Top Box stole it?"

"Winky didn't take it!" Hermione insisted.

"I didn't say she did," Sirius said soothingly. "Who else was in the Top Box behind you?"

"Well, there were the Bulgarian ministers, as well as Fudge," Ron said, thinking.

"The Malfoys," Harry said coldly.

"Bagman," Hermione cut in.

"Had to have been the Malfoys," Ron said. "Only people who make sense."

"But we already suspect the Malfoys were part of the mob," Harry said slowly. "Unless he had a Time Turner, he couldn't have been in two places at once." Everyone got a chuckle out of the inside joke before the mood turned serious again.

"Bagman was in the forest before the Mark went up," Hermione said.

"Yeah, but he left," Ron said. "Went to go help the Ministry."

"You don't know that," Hermione said firmly. "Who knows where he Disapparated to?"

"Come off it!" Ron said. "Ludo Bagman, conjure the Dark Mark? He doesn't seem the type, way too friendly."

"More likely he did it than Winky!" Hermione said hotly.

"No one said she did, Hermione," Harry said wearily.

"What did Crouch do exactly, when his elf was discovered," Sirius cut in.

"He went into the woods where she was found, looking for someone else." Harry said.

Sirius nodded. "Yes, he would want to pin it on anyone other than his own elf," he murmured. "And then he sacked her?"

"Yes!" Hermione said loudly. "Just because she refused to stay in the tent and be trampled…"

"We get it, Hermione, what Crouch did to Winky was wrong," Ron said in a tired voice.

"She's got a good grip on Crouch, Ron," Sirius said before leaning back. "All the absences of Mr. Crouch… Didn't come to the World Cup… Stopped coming to the Triwizard Tournament, which he helped restart… If he's ever taken days off for because of illness before, I'll eat Buckbeak."

"You know Crouch?" Harry asked. Sirius' face darkened.

"Oh, I know Crouch," he said menacingly. "He was the one who sent me to Azkaban without a trial."

"What?" Hermione and Ron gasped, staring at Sirius.

"Oh, yes," Sirius said coldly, moodily taking a bite of bread. "He was the head of Magical Law Enforcement, back in the day. Very powerful; very ambitious." He saw Harry's face and gave a thin smile. "He was never a Voldemort supporter; no, he was very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then, a lot of people opposing the Death Eaters… but you're too young to understand."

"Dad said that too," Ron muttered. "Why don't you try us?"

Sirius grinned.

"Okay, I'll try you." He started pacing. "Imagine that Voldemort's strong right now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who might be controlled. You're scared for your family. Every day, worse news. The Ministry's in disarray, trying to both stop the problem and keep everything from the Muggles, but they're dying too." He took a deep breath.

"Times like that bring out the best in some and the worst in others. Crouch, he was one of the latter. He rose quickly by fighting fire with fire. Under his leadership, the Aurors started getting new powers. The Unforgiviables were authorized against suspects."

"What!" Harry said, his eyes wide.

"Oh, yes," Sirius said. "Crouch and his most loyal supporters probably became as cruel and ruthless as the Death Eaters. And then it seemed that his work was vindicated when Voldemort disappeared; people believed that he had been forced into making a hasty move by Crouch's actions. He was tipped to become Minister of Magic." Sirius smirked coldly. "And then his son was caught with a group of Death Eaters."

"His son?" Hermione whispered.

"Yep," Sirius said, a sort of vindictive joy in his voice. "Nasty little shock for old Barty. Should have gone home early from the office every now and then, gotten to know his own son."

"So what happened?" Harry asked.

"Well, he gave his boy a trial, though from what I heard, it was merely an excuse to show how much he hated the boy. Then he threw him to the dementors."

"He sent his own son to Azkaban?" Hermione said, looking sick.

"That's right," Sirius said, his eyes dark. "I saw him brought in, heard him screaming for his mother. He died about a year later."

"He's dead?" Ron said.

"Yep. Crouch never came for the body, so the dementors buried it. That was it for Barty, though. People started feeling sympathy for the boy, wondering how he had gone so wrong. In the end, they decided the uncaring father was at fault. So Fudge got the job instead."

A tense silence filled the cave. "I could write to Percy," Ron said. "He's Crouch's assistant, he might know what's going on."

"That's a great idea, Ron," Sirius said. "See if you can figure out something about Bertha Jorkins while you're at it. She disappeared where Voldemort was last, and no one knows what happened to her. That worries me just as much as Crouch." He leaned back against a rock, studying Harry. "Alright, what's bothering you, Harry?"

"What?" Harry asked, blinking.

"Harry, your father was my first and best friend," Sirius said gently. "You're extraordinarily blessed to look like him. That means that I can read you, since you share many of his expressions. There's something that's bothering you, and you're not sure what to do. Maybe I can help."

Slowly, Harry told Sirius about his problem, how there was something that had entered his mind. Sirius listened closely, not saying a word until Harry was done.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of anything like this, either," he said after a moment. "And I'm frankly shocked that Pomfrey doesn't either…" He paused. "Just… stay safe, okay? Keep on your toes, and if it starts getting worse, go to her immediately."

"I will," Harry said.

* * *

><p>On Monday, Harry was surprised to see Hermione looking up eagerly when the post owls arrived.<p>

"We just sent the letter to Percy yesterday," Ron said. "He wouldn't have had time to respond yet."

"I know," Hermione said. "I was waiting for a Daily Prophet, I'm sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins."

"Good idea, Hermione." Harry said.

The presence in his head chose that moment to flare up again, and Harry pressed his hands over his eyes, trying to block it out.

"It's still bothering you?" Ron asked sympathetically, and Harry nodded, not moving his hands.

He was disrupted by the arrival of a trio of owls, which started pushing their way towards Hermione.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking bemused as two more owls joined the others, while another simply dropped the letter on her head and flew away.

"Beats me," Ron said, moving Hermione's goblet before another group of owls could knock it over. "None of them seem to be carrying papers…" Just as he said this, a final owl showed up, paused in the air for a moment, before diving into the fray.

Hermione, meanwhile, was reading the first of the letters, and her face was red. "This… this is…" she spluttered, throwing the letter aside. Harry glanced at it, and saw that it was made up of pasted letters rather than handwriting.

_You are a wicked girl. Harry Potter deserves better. Go back where you came from, Muggle._

"They're all like this!" Hermione gasped, scanning through them. "I don't believe… OWCH!"

The last letter she had opened had contained a large amount of what looked like undiluted bubotuber pus, which was now causing her hands to erupt in boils.

"You'd better get to Madam Pomfrey quickly," Harry said as Hermione tried to rub the puss off with a napkin. "We'll tell Professor Sprout what happened." Hermione didn't need to be told twice, hurrying out of the hall.

"I was afraid something like this would happen," Ron said as they swept the remaining letters into the fire. "Hermione may not care what Rita Skeeter writes, but there are a lot of people who do. Wow, look at this one… 'I'll be sending a curse…' She needs to look out…"

Harry nodded mutely. He hadn't even considered that people might do more than taunt him and Hermione over the article. The thought that there were people out there filled with so much hate that they were willing to do things like this to a girl they didn't even know was… disturbing to say the least.

Hermione didn't show up until about halfway through Care of Magical Creatures. The class had been working with nifflers, cuddly little diggers who used their shovel-like forepaws to dig up treasures. Harry would have found it a lot more fun if he had been able to get Pansy Parkinson to stop giggling maliciously about Hermione.

"What happened?" Hagrid asked Hermione worriedly after the lesson, when the rest of the class had hurried off to lunch. Hermione told him sadly about the letters, still staring at her horribly bandaged hands.

"Don worry," Hagrid said gently. "I got some o' those after Skeeter wrote abou' me mum. Just throw em in the fire as soon as they arrive. If you don know who the letter's from, chuck it."

"I want to know how she heard Viktor in the first place!" Hermione snarled. "She wasn't there, I would have recognized her. Unless she had an Invisibility Cloak… I'll ask Professor Moody."

She didn't have a chance to do so until after class on Thursday. It had been a nasty lesson, where Moody had vigorously tested their ability to deflect jinxes. Unfortunately for Harry, his automatic defenses seemed to be failing ever since the presence had awoken, and he was nursing a few small injuries.

"Rita Skeeter's not using an Invisibility Cloak," she said furiously. "So she must be trying something else…"

"Maybe she has you bugged?" Harry said. Ron looked confused, so Harry quickly explained electronic listening devises.

"Those don't work around Hogwarts!" Hermione hissed. "Nothing electronic does, and if either of you were to even _glance_ through _Hogwarts a History_, you'd know that!" She snarled. "No, she's using magic, and I'm going to find out how! If it's illegal… ohhhhh…" Harry decided that it was best not to annoy Hermione further, and nudged Ron's foot under the table when he opened his mouth.

Hermione spent a lot of time over the next few weeks looking up magical eavesdropping; somehow working it in between all the other homework she had to do. Harry wondered how she managed it; he was working just to keep up.

Percy didn't get back to them until Easter, when his letter came along with Mrs. Weasley's Easter eggs. Harry was surprised to see that, while his and Ron's were the normal size, Hermione's was tiny by wizarding standards (smaller than a chicken egg.)

"You're mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, does she?" Hermione asked Ron quietly.

"Yeah," Ron said. "She gets it for the recipes."

Harry quickly opened Percy's letter and called Hermione over, trying to distract her.

_As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know his handwriting. Unless you have something important to talk about, don't write again. Happy Easter._

"That's cheerful for him," Ron said sardonically as he read the letter over Harry's shoulder. "I especially liked the bit about 'something important.'"

The illness of Mr. Crouch drifted into the back of Harry's mind as May dragged on. Madam Pomfrey still hadn't figured out what was wrong with him, but, fortunately, it didn't seem to be growing stronger, either.

The Triwizard Tournament jumped back into Harry's mind during the last week of the month as Professor McGonagall told him that he was to report to the Qudditch Field at nine o'clock that night.

"Wonder what we're up to this time?" Cedric asked after Harry met him in the Great Hall. "Fleur reckons we'll be underground, finding treasures."

"So long as they don't dig up the Quidditch field," Harry said. Cedric's face paled, and the two shared a look. They rushed to their beloved playing field, stopping dead when they entered.

"What have they done?" Cedric gasped, staring at the waist-high hedges that were growing across the entire field. Harry shook his head, sincerely glad that Oliver Wood had left Hogwarts last year. He might have had a heart attack when he saw what had been done.

"Over here!" Bagman shouted from the center of the field. As Harry and Cedric scrambled over the hedges, Harry noticed that Fleur and Krum were already there. Fleur smiled at Harry, but Krum's scowl deepened.

"So, what do you think?" Bagman asked cheerily when all four champions were standing around him. "They'll be twenty feet by the time Hagrid's done with them." He glanced at the disgusted looks on Cedric and Harry's faces and chuckled. "Don't worry, they'll be gotten rid of after the Task's over; you'll have your Qudditch pitch back, good as new." He rubbed his hands together. "Now, what do you think these hedges are for?"

"Maze?" Krum grunted, still studying Harry.

"Yes!" Bagman said happily. "The Triwizard Cup will be right here, in the center of the maze, and the first champion to touch it will receive full marks, which, as you know, will guarantee a victory. The maze will have some enchantments and creatures, but other than that, it should be very straightforward, don't you think?"

Harry nodded slowly. It would be straightforward, but it would also be incredibly painful, especially if Hagrid was providing the creatures.

"The order you enter in will be based on points, so you two go first, the Mr. Krum, then Miss Delacour." He looked around. "Well, that's it, so lets get inside, it's quite chilly, don't you think?"

Harry hurried out of the pitch, trying to avoid Bagman, who was looking at him. However, he wasn't able to evade Krum, who tapped him on the shoulder.

"Could I haff a vord?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, surprised. Krum nodded sharply, leading the way towards the forest.

"Don't vont to be overheard," he said when Harry wondered where they were going. Harry's eyes narrowed, and his wand slid out of his robes, though he held it in a way that it couldn't be seen.

"Is this far enough?" he asked after a long moment. Krum nodded.

"I vant to know vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny."

Harry blinked; he hadn't been expecting this. "Nothing," he said. "We're just friends."

Krum glared at Harry suspiciously. "She talks about you very often."

"We're just friends," Harry said firmly. "Rita Skeeter's just making stuff up."

Krum studied Harry for a long moment, and finally his glower faded into a slight smile. "Thank you," he said. "You flew very vell, at the first task."

"Thanks," Harry said. "I saw you at the World Cup, that was incredibly…"

Harry was distracted by a sound in the forest behind Krum.

"What is it?" Krum asked as Harry spun his wand into a proper grip and lit it, staring into the forest.

"There's something in there!" Harry hissed, squinting as he tried to find the source of the noise.

After a long moment, a shape stumbled into the beam of light from Harry's wand. It took Harry a moment to realize that it was Mr. Crouch.

He looked like he had been through hell. His knees were bloody, and one arm looked broken. He was exhausted, his face covered in scratches. He also seemed to have gone completely mad, he was muttering and gesturing.

"Vosn't he a judge?" Krum muttered, taking a few steps forward. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"

"Yeah, but he's supposed to be sick…" Harry said, holding out a hand to stop Krum from getting too close.

"And when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students…" Crouch said, his voice distant and scratchy.

"Mr. Crouch!" Harry said loudly, trying to get the man's attention. "Watch the forest," he muttered to Krum as he crouched down.

"Then send another letter to Madame Maxime, will you, Weatherby?" Crouch said, still talking to thin air.

"Vot is wrong vith him?" Krum asked nervously, his hands shaking.

"Mr. Crouch, please answer me!" Harry said. Crouch's eyes shot to Harry.

"Dumbledore!" he ground out, reaching out and grabbing Harry's arm. "I have to… speak… to Dumbledore!"

"Yes," Harry said quickly, trying to get his arm from Crouch's grip. "I'll…"

"Stupid… thing… I've done…" he groaned, though his grip on Harry's arm was still strong. "Dumbledore…"

"We'll take you too him," Harry said, still trying to get his arm free.

"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.S, most satisfactory," Crouch said, his grip loosening. "Now, where is that…"

"He's mad…" Krum said warily.

"Yeah, and we have to get him to Dumbledore," Harry said as he rose to his feet. "I'll…"

"Don't… leave… me…" Crouch said, his hand gripping Harry's ankle. "My fault… all my fault… Bertha…dead… my son… Dark Lord… stronger… my fault…"

"I'm not going…" Harry started before jerking around.

"Vat now?" Krum asked, but Harry silenced him with a raised hand. Something was wrong…

"We have to move him, we're too exposed," Harry said before pointing his wand at Mr. Crouch. "_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ he whispered, waving his wand.

"Vat are you doing?" Krum asked as Mr. Crouch moaned, rising into the air.

"Unless you want to carry him, this is the fastest way to get out of here," Harry said. "Mr. Crouch, please calm down, we're taking you to Dumbledore."

"My… fault…" Mr. Crouch groaned as Harry started towards the castle.

_ "Behind you…" _

"Shut up, little voice," Harry muttered as he glanced behind him.

He was just in time to see a shape standing just inside the forest; a shape that was raising a wand.

"GET DOWN!" Harry shouted, diving to the side. Krum didn't move, and Mr. Crouch fell as Harry's spell was disrupted.

A jet of green light leapt from the figure's wand, streaked across the distance, and struck Mr. Crouch before he'd even gotten halfway to the ground. Harry distantly heard the rush of noise.

"Vat… Who…" Krum said, looking around desperately.

Harry transitioned his dive into a roll, coming up on one knee and firing every spell he could think of at the killer in the trees, causing whoever it was to duck behind a nearby oak.

"Get the body!" Harry screamed, still shooting desperately. If he gave the person time to aim, he might not have a chance to dodge. "NOW!" he shouted when Krum didn't immediately move. Finally, Krum kicked himself into action, levitating Mr. Crouch's body.

"'What is going on?" another voice called from the direction of the Beauxbaton carriage. Harry risked a quick glance to identify Fleur.

"Get back, get back!" he shouted, sprinting over to the pair while still blind-firing spells into the forest.

_ "On your left…"_

"Shutupshutupshutupshutup…" Harry moaned, but though he did turn his fire slightly left.

"Who is zat? What is happening" Fleur asked Krum, fear in her voice.

"I don't know!" Krum said desperately as he continued levitating the body. "I don't know vat is going on!"

"Someone's trying to kill us, that's what!" Harry said. "We need to get to cover!" Fleur gasped.

"Ze carriage! Madame Maxime will know what to do!" Harry nodded, still trying to force the enemy to keep their head down.

Fleur led the way back to the door of the carriage and threw it open, gesturing the others inside. Krum went first, still levitating the body of Mr. Crouch. Harry kept firing blindly until the corpse was fully inside before ducking in after it.

"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" someone asked Fleur, staring at Mr. Crouch's body in shock.

"'Arry et Krum ont été attaques!" Fleur said. "Cet homme a été tué! Où est Madame Maxime?"

"Je suis ici!" Madame Maxime said, coming out of another room. "What has happened?" she asked Harry and Krum as soon as she saw them.

"There's someone out there!" Harry said desperately. "They just killed Mr. Crouch! Killing Curse!" Stunned gasps greeted this declaration.

"Stay here, all of you!" Madame Maxime said firmly, drawing her wand in one swift move and leaving the carriage.

"Soyez prudent, Madame Maxime!" Fleur said as the door closed with a snap.

Harry started taking deep breaths, trying to get his racing heart under control. The whole scene seemed surreal, as if he was about to wake up from a disturbing dream. Trying to distract himself, he started looking around the interior of the carriage.

If it was the size of a house on the outside, it was a palace on the inside. The main floor looked like some sort of meeting area, with several doors leading off, each with a name on it. There was a spiral staircase made of what looked like marble leading up to a second floor, though it was little more than a balcony around the wall with more doors. There were beautiful tapestries and carpets everywhere, and the central room had many lovely couches surrounding a real fountain.

Krum seemed to be looking for a dirty piece of floor to set Mr. Crouch's filthy body on, but wasn't having any luck because the _whole carriage_ was perfectly clean. In the end, he just kept levitating him, not wanting to sully the pure floor. The Beauxbaton students were whispering to each other in French, looking scared.

"'Arry, what is going on?" Fleur asked nervously.

"Just what I said to Madame Maxime," Harry said. "We were talking," he gestured to himself and Krum, "and then Mr. Crouch came out of the forest, babbling, saying that he needed to talk to Dumbledore. So I levitated him, since he didn't seem to be able to walk himself. We only got a short distance before someone used the Killing Curse on him." More shudders ran through the gathered students as Harry spoke.

"Vhy?" Krum asked. "Vhy would someone want to kill this… Mr. Crouch?"

"I don't know," Harry said, though he had his suspicions. Mr. Crouch had been talking about Voldemort. If Harry was right, then Mr. Crouch's death might have been to silence him. He didn't want to say this, however, when everyone was already so frightened.

A long, tense silence passed before the door to the carriage opened again. Madame Maxime led the way in, followed by Dumbledore, Moody, and Karkaroff.

"Viktor, are you alright?" Karkaroff asked immediately.

"Yes, I am fine," Krum said.

Dumbledore quickly conjured a simple cloth on the floor. "Set Mr. Crouch here, if you please," he said gently to Krum, who nodded with some trepidation and placed the body on the cloth so that Dumbledore could begin examining him.

Madame Maxime had quickly shooed her students back to their rooms. "What has happened?" she asked.

"Yes, what's happened?" Karkaroff asked, glaring at Harry.

Harry quickly explained what happened. By the end of his description, Moody was looking impressed.

"Well done, Potter," he growled. "Most people in your position would have frozen up, panicked. You kept a cool head and kept safe. Very good."

"Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have been able to save the person who seemed to know what was going on," Karkaroff said snidely, gesturing towards Mr. Crouch's body.

"I didn't have time!" Harry said defensively. "It was only though luck that I even saw the curse coming!" He hadn't mentioned the voice. Dumbledore might have understood, but he didn't want any of the others getting ideas that he might not be sane.

"We know, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly, glancing at Karkaroff warningly. "I'm sure Igor was simply worried, and spoke before he though." Karkaroff looked like he wanted to argue the point, but after Moody glared at him, he shut his mouth.

"Alastor, please go search the grounds for our assassin," Dumbledore said quietly. "Be careful."

"Will do, Dumbledore," Moody said, drawing his wand and leaving the carriage.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be taking my champion back to the ship," Karkaroff said. Dumbledore and Madame Maxime nodded, and the pair left.

A long silence filled the carriage. "My apologies that this happened, Madame Maxime," Dumbledore said, bowing slightly. "And my thanks for granting Harry and Mr. Krum shelter."

"You would have done ze same thing, Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime said. "But I worry for my pupils, now zat an assassin has proven able to sneak into ze grounds."

"I assure you, I will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of everyone within these walls, Madame Maxime," Dumbledore said. "We should trouble you and your students no longer, I'll deal with this." Madame Maxime nodded, and Dumbledore gestured Harry to follow him after he used the cloth he had conjured to wrap Mr. Crouch's body.

"Professor, what do you think Mr. Crouch wanted to tell you?" Harry asked after the two reached the entrance hall.

"I wish I knew, Harry," Dumbledore said. "If I had to guess, it would have to do with Voldemort's rise." He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Professor…" Harry started, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry. Alastor's right, you did a great thing tonight. If you and Mr. Krum had not been where you were, I would not have known that Mr. Crouch was dead. And if you had not acted as you did, whoever killed Mr. Crouch might have killed the two of you as well. No, you have nothing to regret." His bright blue eyes met Harry's. "What happened tonight was not your fault, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir…" Harry said. Dumbledore's eyes pierced Harry as the pair stood in a deserted corridor.

"You're worried about something." This wasn't a question.

"Sir, did Madam Pomfrey ever tell you about… my condition?" Harry asked.

"She did," Dumbledore said gently. "And I'm afraid that I've never heard of anything like this, or how to cure it."

"It… It's getting worse again," Harry said. "Before, I could only hear indistinct whispers, except when I was in the crypt." He took a deep breath. "During the battle… I could understand it again."

"And what did it say to you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"It… told me where the attacker was." Harry said.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said quietly. "Perhaps…" He stared at Harry again, before shaking his head. "No matter. I want you to return to Gryffindor Tower and stay there, Harry. Any letters you want to send can wait until tomorrow." He looked out a window. "With any luck, Alastor will find our killer and that will be the end of it."

* * *

><p>"Do you think that Moody found them?" Hermione asked.<p>

Harry shrugged, still staring out the Owlery window after the barn owl that was winging its way towards Sirius. The sun was just rising on the horizon, and Harry wasn't sure if they were even technically allowed to be out of the dormitory yet. Still, he figured it was best to tell Sirius what had happened as soon as possible.

"And Crouch said that You-Know-Who was getting stronger?" Ron said nervously.

"Yes," Harry shot back; Ron had asked him this question at least a dozen times already. "And before you ask, it was when he was saying that that he was most sane."

A tense silence filled the room. "And then he was murdered," Hermione said quietly.

"Yeah," Harry said, still staring out the window moodily. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night, he was just too nervous. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry suddenly heard footsteps coming up the steps behind them, along with voices. Harry held up his hand so that he could hear them.

It was Fred and George. "That's blackmail," one of them was saying fiercely. "We could get in so much trouble…"

"We've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him," the other shot back.

The door burst open and the twins walked in, stopping when they saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.

George chuckled after a long moment. "Fine, we won't ask you what you're doing if you don't ask us," he said.

Ron looked worried. "Who're you blackmailing?" he asked.

Fred and George's grins vanished.

"No one, we were joking," George said.

"It didn't sound like it," Ron said.

The twins glanced at each other. "It's none of your business, Ronniekins," Fred said coldly.

"It's my business if you're blackmailing people," Ron said firmly, his hands curling into fists. "George's right, you could get arrested for that."

George snorted. "You seem to be taking after our older brother," he said as he started tying the letter to another owl. "If you're not carful, you might become a prefect. We don't think we could bear the shame of that."

"No I won't!" Ron said, his ears turning red.

"Then stop butting into other people's business, oh brother ours," Fred said as he and George left.

"What are they up to?" Hermione wondered.

"I don't know," Ron said warily. "They've been obsessed with making money, though. I didn't really notice at the time, but…" he trailed off.

"But surely they wouldn't break the law," Hermione said. "I mean, I know they don't always follow the rules, but you'd think the law would mean more to them."

"You can never tell with them," Ron said. "They're stubborn; once they get an idea in their head, they never let go."

The trio stood in silence for a long moment before Hermione spoke up, obviously trying to distract Ron. "Should we go talk to Professor Moody now?"

"We should probably wait," Harry said. "If we try to get him up at the brink of dawn, he'll think we're trying to attack him. Best to wait until the break."

After a long, boring History of Magic class, the trio rushed to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom just in time to see Moody herding the first years out.

"Hello, Potter," he growled, watching a pair of scared looking girls until they were out of sight. "In here," he grunted, gesturing them to enter the empty classroom.

"Did you find the killer?" Harry asked without preamble.

"'Fraid not, Potter," Moody grunted. "He wasn't on the grounds, nor was he in the forest." He smirked. "Saw where he was, though. Some of those trees might not be stable after what you did to them. Nice work, some more training and you might make a good Auror."

"So, what now?" Hermione asked. Moody sighed as he sat back in his chair.

"We wait, not much else to do. It could have been anyone who killed Crouch, for any reason. Dumbledore's theory that he was being silenced is the most likely one, but its possible that he has other enemies that were taking the chance to eliminate him."

"So we have no clues?" Ron asked.

"Not a one." Moody's magic eye darted between Ron and Hermione. "Keep an eye on Potter, you two. Whoever killed Crouch might want to silence the other witnesses. I'm on the lookout, but I can't be everywhere at once. Constant vigilance, all of you."

"Will do, Professor," Hermione said, and Ron nodded. Moody's lopsided face broke into a smile.

"Good, good. Now, about the Third Task, I'd start preparing now, if I were you. Get a good variety of spells, hexes, whatever you'll need. You've done things like this before, remember what you learned, and don't ever let your guard down. Do that, and I think you can win this tournament."

AN: Book 4 is reaching its final stages. Thank you to all those who have stuck with this story, your support has meant the world to me. Please read, review, and stay tuned.


	9. Into the Maw of Darkness

Disclaimer: You know the drill, and if you don't, you should go back and reread the previous chapters.

Reviewer Response:

raw666: No, Harry will not be nearly as easy an opponent, once he and Justice work out their differences.

Andrew Mackenzie: Harry's scared, and people don't think clearly when they're scared. Madam Pomfrey called Justice a "curse" earlier, and that stigma has stayed. This, along with the natural human fear for the unknown and the problems with their first interaction in the crypt, has created a rift between Harry and Justice.

Deadzepplin: Yep.

Rizaidym: Well, the worst of the anticipation is over, after this chapter.

crazyjim87: I can't tell you, because I haven't entirely decided on the pairing myself (I fluctuate almost daily).

Neristhaed: I'm glad you like the story.

narutofan020: Just a little while longer before Justice and Harry start working together ;).

Sythe: Wow, thanks for the long review, it's nice when people put care and thought into their responses. I must admit that some of the dialog is taken directly form JKR, so it's not entirely me.

I've always felt sympathy for Justice, and I hate to do this to him, but the results should be worth it. Don't worry, when he and Harry work out their differences, they'll be a team rather than master and servant (or at least that's what I'm trying to write.)

Thank you so much for the experiment. I don't have a problem with you recommending it, if I didn't want it read I wouldn't have posted it. I'll keep an eye on my work and PM you about the results.

Glacarius: Thanks for the review : ).

Chapter 8: Into the Maw of Darkness

The next day, Sirius' response arrived, and he was not amused at Harry's actions.

_Harry - what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed, and you almost were._

_ Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you won't stray out-of-bounds again._

_Sirius_

"Rather rich of him to lecture me about being out of bounds," Harry said coldly. "He did it all the time when he was in school."

"He didn't have someone trying to hurt him," Hermione said sharply. "And he has a point. The killer took a big risk; they must know they were pushing it to assassinate Mr. Crouch in front of witnesses. That should tell you how dedicated they are to hurting you."

"Then why didn't he target me first?" Harry snarled. "Why not kill me? Crouch wasn't in any condition to move under his own power and Krum was too busy panicking to do anything until I started screaming at him."

"I don't know how these people's minds work, Harry, but it's best not to take risks," Hermione said. "For now, the best thing we can do is prepare you for the Third Task."

Harry agreed to this, and the trio soon started a grueling training regime, alternating between the library and empty classrooms. Harry practiced spells like the Stunning Spell, the Impediment Curse, Shield Charm, Reducter Curse, and various others that might prove helpful in getting through the maze. For the majority of these, he was forced to use Ron and Hermione as target practice, despite Ron's joking suggestion to kidnap Mrs. Norris and use her instead.

"Well, if it keeps you alive, I guess it's for a good cause," Ron said as the pair headed up the stairs to the North Tower for Divination.

"Yeah," Harry said, glancing out the window. "It's going to be boiling in Trelawney's room, she never puts that stupid fire out." Ron groaned.

Harry's suspicion turned out to be right, and as Trelawney started talking mystically about the movements of Mars and how it would spell disaster for those who were born in June, Harry slid a nearby window open a bit, desperate for some relief. He quickly realized, however, that the combination of cool and warm air was causing his eyes to droop. The last thing he heard before he drifted off was some kind of insect buzzing among the curtains…

Harry looked around the countryside from his perch on the back of a flying owl. It certainly was a nice view, especially the house that the seemed to be heading towards; and old, ivy covered mansion that seemed to perfectly fill the gap between stately and mysterious.

A sense of foreboding started to fill Harry as the owl flew closer and closer. There was something in that house… something that he didn't want to see…

The owl dropped him off as it flew through a broken window. Harry watched as it flew to a massive armchair in the center of the room. There were two other shapes on the floor in front of the armchair; a man and what looked like a snake. The man was panting, as if he had just been shouting, or screaming.

"You are in luck, Wormtail," a cold voice said from the chair, causing the owl to take flight and flee the room. "Your blunder has not ruined everything. He is dead."

"Master…" Wormtail gasped, his tear-stained face rising from the floor. "I… I am so pleased… and so sorry."

The snake, meanwhile, also lifted its head, staring pleadingly at the person in the chair.

"Nagini, you are out of luck, _for the moment_," the voice said, a touch of cruel amusement. "I will not be feeding Wormtail here to you today." The voice turned brutally cold again. "Now, Wormtail, perhaps you need one more reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you…"

"NO! Master… please…" Wormtail gasped as Harry watched a wand rise into view.

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort said, and even as Wormtail screamed in agony, Harry felt as if a brand had been pressed to his forehead. He turned his head away from the writhing form, and was greeted by the sight of an armored figure standing in one of the corners, watching the spectacle. Harry didn't know how he could tell, but he knew that the figure was disgusted by what it was seeing. It turned towards Harry, and started taking a step forward.

"Harry!" someone shouted, trying to draw Harry out of the house… out of the dream. He forced his eyes open and was greeted by the worried face of Ron, who was crouching next to him. His scar still throbbed.

"Mr. Potter, what did you see?" Trelawney said eagerly, pushing through the rest of the students. "An apparition? A premonition? Quickly, you must tell me before it fades!"

"Nothing," Harry said, pushing himself to his feet. "I need to go to the hospital wing. Bad headache."

"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the clairvoyant vibes of this room! If you leave, you may never get another chanced to see farther than you have ever…"

"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," Harry said, pushing himself to his feet. The rest of the class backed away as Harry grabbed his bag and retreated from the room.

Harry had no intentions of going to the hospital wing. Instead, he rushed towards Dumbledore's office, remembering Sirius' advice to speak to the headmaster if his scar hurt him again.

The dream had been as vivid as the one that he had seen at Privet Drive before the Quidditch Cup, and just as worrying. Voldemort had been unhappy with Wormtail over some blunder, a blunder that had been repaired by someone's death. Perhaps Mr. Crouch's? The timing was too close to be a coincidence.

That meant that, whatever Voldemort's plan was, it was still in motion. But there was still the fact that the killer had attacked Mr. Crouch, and not Harry himself. It seemed that, for the moment at least, Voldemort didn't want Harry dead. But for what end?

Harry was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost didn't noticed that he had arrived at the gargoyle leading into Dumbledore's office. He stared at it for a long moment, suddenly realizing that he didn't know the password; it had likely changed since it was "Sherbet Lemon" in his second year.

"Chocolate Frog?" he said. The gargoyle didn't move. "Pear Drop. Er - Licorice Wand. Fizzing Whizbee. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans… oh no, he doesn't like them, does he?… Oh just open, can't you?" he said angrily. "I really need to see him, its urgent!" The gargoyle remained immovable, almost seeming to taunt him. "Sugar Quill! Cockroach Cluster!"

Finally, the gargoyle leapt aside.

"Really?" Harry asked. "I was joking…" Shaking his head, he rushed up the moving staircase towards Dumbledore's office. He slowed, however, when he heard voices.

"Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection!" Cornelius Fudge said angrily. "Bertha's perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree that we would have expected to find her by now, but there's no evidence of foul play."

"And Mr. Crouch's murder?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "He mentioned Bertha."

"Yes, but by all accounts he seemed to have finally snapped, gone crazy?" Fudge said dismissively. "He must have thought he heard that Bertha had been killed. As for his death… well, he's made a lot of enemies over the years, one of them must have decided to take the chance to kill him."

"That's a lot of assumptions, Minister," Moody growled. "And we should wrap this conversation up."

"Yes, let's go take a look at the scene." Fudge blustered.

"No, Potter's here to speak to you, Headmaster. He's standing just outside the door." Harry heard his wooden leg clunk as the ex-Auror stomped over to the door and threw it open. "Hello, Potter."

Harry jumped, he'd forgotten that Moody's eye could see through solid objects. "Sorry, Professor," he said.

"Never mind," Moody growled, stepping back and gesturing Harry through, Harry followed his lead, looking around as he did. Dumbledore was standing behind his desk, his eyes twinkling. Fudge had turned from the other side of the desk, his lime-green bowler hat spinning in his hands.

"Harry!" he said cheerfully. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, Minister," Harry said, nodding.

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid that whatever you came to talk to me about, it will have to wait for a few moments. Cornelius, Alastor and myself were going to take a look at the scene of Mr. Crouch's death. If you wish, you can wait here."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. The three adults filed out of the office, closing the door behind Harry with a snap.

Harry pulled the chair that Fudge seemed to have moved so he could stand in front of Dumbledore's desk back to its proper place and sank into it, thinking. It seemed odd that Fudge would just ignore Dumbledore's opinion; Harry remembered Hagrid telling him that Fudge would often ask for it by owl. True, that had been several years ago, but it seemed odd that things would change that quickly.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft note from Fawkes the Phoenix, who was staring at him, his head cocked. Harry smiled, waving.

As Fawkes put his head under his wing and went to sleep, Harry's eyes traced their way around the various shelves behind Dumbledore's desk. On a topmost shelf sat the Sorting Hat. Harry had no desire to put it on for another chat, since it generally made him feel more worried than he did before listening to it.

On another shelf lay a beautiful sword, it's hilt studded with rubies. Harry himself had brought that sword, the sword of Godric Gryffindor, to Dumbledore. He had received it from the Sorting Hat, using it to slay an ancient basilisk to save Ginny's life in his second year. A small part of him wanted to go and touch it, or at least get a closer look.

Finally, with a quick glance at the door, Harry moved over to the sword. Its long, straight blade was thin save for a thicker portion near the cross-guard, and Harry remembered that it had been light, even in his young hands. The name of Godric Gryffindor was written in gold lettering along the thick portion. Just seeing it again, remembering what he'd already gone through, made Harry feel stronger.

He suddenly noticed that a silvery light was being reflected off the ruby that was set into the pommel. Turning, Harry saw a cabinet sitting in the corner, a cabinet whose door was ajar. The sword forgotten, Harry walked carefully over to the cabinet and pulled the door open. Inside lay one of the oddest things Harry had ever seen.

It looked like a shallow stone bowl, with dozens of strange runes carved along the sides. What drew Harry's attention, however, was the strange silvery liquid within. At first, Harry thought it was a potion, but the more he looked at it, the more it seemed to be something else, like wind made physical or light made liquid.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked at it. He knew that touching this strange substance would probably be a bad idea, so he pulled out his wand instead. After a long moment of consideration, he poked the contents of the potion.

It immediately started swirling, its silvery color darkening for a moment before becoming transparent, showing a bird's eye view of what looked like a dimly lit stone room. There seemed to be people sitting on benches, but Harry was too far away to see clearly. He leaned closer, trying to figure out where it was. There was a chair in the center of the room, a chair that looked like it had something along the arms.

As Harry leaned closer, trying to figure out what was going on, his nose inadvertently touched the surface. A second later, he found himself falling… falling… falling, until he landed on the bench with at thump.

No one turned, or showed any surprise at Harry's sudden appearance. Almost all of them were completely silent, save for a few who were murmuring too quietly for Harry to hear what they were saying. As Harry looked around, he was surprised to see Professor Dumbledore sitting right next to him, his eyes trained on the door in the corner.

"Professor?" Harry gasped, "I'm sorry, I…"

Dumbledore didn't react to Harry in the slightest, continuing to stare at the door. Harry blinked, before it dawned on him what must be happening. Dumbledore wouldn't ignore him like this, unless Harry was seeing something that had already happened.

The last time something like this had happened, Harry had been sucked into the enchanted diary of a young Voldemort. This time, it seemed that he was in Dumbledore's memories. But what was this place? Harry knew a lot about Hogwarts, and he was pretty sure that there wasn't a room like this.

Harry's musing was interrupted by the door opening and a pair of dementors escorting a man in. A shudder passed through the room as the empty, miserable aura of the dementors chilled the air. It seemed that the majority of their attention was focused on the man they held, since he was pale and looked on the verge of collapse. Harry was surprised to discover, upon closer examination, that it was a younger Karkaroff. He was placed in the thick wooden chair by the dementors, which left the room. Several thick chains rose up from the arms of the chair to bind Karkaroff.

"Igor Karkaroff!" a voice barked from the center of the bench. Harry leaned past Dumbledore to get a look. It was Mr. Crouch, who looked much younger, unlike Dumbledore who might as well have just stepped out of his office back in the present. His eyes remained as sharp as they had when Harry had first seen him, and were glaring at Karkaroff. "You have been brought from Azkaban at your own request to give evidence to the Wizengamot. You claim that, in your desire to repent, you are willing to tell us the names of those who served with you among He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's Death Eaters."

"I… I do, sir," Karkaroff said in a small voice.

"Scum," a voice muttered behind Harry, who nearly cricked his neck turning to see who it was. It turned out to be Mad-Eye Moody, though he did not yet have his magical eye. "Crouch's going to let him go," he said to Dumbledore, who cocked his head to indicate he was listening. "It took me six months to track the bastard down, and now Crouch's going to let him out if he can give enough names. Let him talk, then throw him back to the dementors, that's what I say."

Dumbledore turned his head just enough to give Moody a warning look.

"Oh, yeah," Moody said, not sounding repentant at all. "You don't like dementors, do you?"

"I'm afraid I do not," Dumbledore said quietly. "I have long thought the Ministry wrong to ally with such creatures." Having experienced the terrible power of dementors himself last year, Harry couldn't help but agree with Dumbledore.

Meanwhile, the trial had been continuing, and Harry turned his attention back to Karkaroff. "The Dark Lord was always very secretive," the sweating man was saying. "Only he ever knew who all the Death Eaters were."

"But you do have some names?" Mr. Crouch asked coldly.

"I do have some," Karkaroff said quickly. "There was Antonin Dolohov…"

"He's in Azkaban," Crouch said dismissively. "He was captured shortly after yourself." Karkaroff paled even more.

"That's… that's wonderful to hear," he stammered before pushing on. Evan Rosier, he's a…."

"Dead," Crouch called. "Killed resisting arrest."

Karkaroff gaped up at Crouch before finding his voice. "No more than he deserved!" There was a clear note of panic in his voice, he was terrified that none of his names would be worth anything.

"Do you have anything else?" Mr. Crouch asked after a moment of silence. Karkaroff centered himself and pressed on.

"I… I do! There's Mulciber, he is one of the Dark Lord's favored. Travers! Augustus Rookwood, he's a spy in the Ministry!"

The last name got people's attention. "Rookwood, you say?" Mr. Crouch said as the witch next to him jotted something on the parchment in front of her. "The Unspeakable?"

"The very same, sir!" Karkaroff said, grinning in relief.

"Yes, well, we already knew about Mulciber, though he is evading capture, and we have Travers. If there's nothing else…"

"I have one more! Snape, Severus Snape!"

"He's been cleared." Mr. Crouch said, though his glare shifted to Dumbledore, indicating that he wasn't happy about this. "Albus Dumbledore vouched for him personally."

"I assure you, Severus Snape is a Death Eater!" Karkaroff wailed. "He was one of those authorized to speak directly with the Dark Lord, one of his inner circle!"

"He was," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "But Severus Snape has since changed sides, becoming a spy for us at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am." As Dumbledore sat, the room faded to black.

It returned a moment later, but there were major differences. Though the central bench was unchanged, the peripheral seating, the spectators, were much more lively. Harry noticed that many of them were wearing yellow and black, and for a moment he mistook them for Hufflepuffs before recognizing that several had a picture of a wasp on the front.

'They must be Quidditch fans,' Harry thought bemusedly as he recognized the Wimbourne Wasps logo. "But why are they…"

He was answered as the doors opened and Ludo Bagman entered the room under his own power, looking slightly nervous. He looked much younger, probably still in his Quidditch playing days. Harry suddenly understood the reason that people were wearing Wasps clothing; as a show of support. As Bagman gingerly sat in the central chair, he seemed to brace himself for the chains to bind him. When they didn't move, he let out a sigh of relief, waved up at the spectators, and turned his eyes to Mr. Crouch, who was glowering at everyone.

"Ludo Bagman, you have been brought before the Wizengamot to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters. We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"Well…" said, grinning awkwardly, "I know I've been a bit of an idiot…"

"Truer words have never been spoken," Moody muttered.

"You were caught passing information to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's supporters." Mr. Crouch growled, still glaring at Bagman. The rest of the people dungeon started muttering angrily at this.

"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Bagman called. "Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's… never thought that he might be with You-Know-Who… He kept saying that he'd get me a job at the Ministry after my Quidditch days… I can't spend the rest of my life getting hit by Bludgers, can I?"

He got some laughs, though Mr. Crouch's scowl didn't disappear.

"It will be put to a vote," he shouted, getting everyone's attention. "All those in favor of imprisonment…" A long silence filled the room; no one moved at all. Finally, a young woman rose to her feet.

"Yes?" Mr. Crouch snapped, glaring at her.

"We would just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the match against Turkey last Saturday," she said breathlessly. Harry snickered at the thunderous look on Mr. Crouch's face, but stopped as his eyes traced the back of the room and caught sight of Rita Skeeter, scribbling on a piece of parchment.

The memory faded again, and when it returned, Harry could almost taste the tension in the air. Even Dumbledore looked grim. The only noise in the entire chamber was the sobs of a frail-looking woman sitting next to Mr. Crouch.

Six dementors entered, shepherding three men and a woman. The woman seemed supremely disdainful of the people sitting around her, and as the chair she was placed in wrapped its chains around her arm, she simply tossed some of her thick dark hair out of her eyes. Two of the men looked nervous, but relatively calm.

The final prisoner, who was probably just out of his teens, looked on the verge of a breakdown. His straw-colored hair was messy, and his face was pale. At the sight of him, the woman next to Mr. Crouch gasped and started rocking.

"You have been brought before the Wizengamot," Mr. Crouch called, his voice and face filled with hate, "so that we may pass judgment on you for crimes so heinous…"

"Father," the boy said, turning his tear-stained eyes on Mr. Crouch. "Please…"

"… that we have rarely heard the likes of it within this court!" Mr. Crouch continued furiously. "You are accused of capturing an Auror, Frank Longbottom, and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing that he had information of the present whereabouts of your exiled master."

"I didn't!" Crouch Jr. cried. "I didn't! Father, please…"

"You are further accused!" Mr. Crouch bellowed, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power!"

"Mother!" the boy cried, turning his gaze to the woman beside Mr. Crouch. "Stop him, please!"

"I call upon the jury to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!" The crowd obeyed in unison.

"No!" the boy screamed "Father, Mother, I didn't! I didn't do it! Don't send me back!" The dementors were gliding back into the room, dragging the convicted to their feet. The woman rose smoothly to her feet, sneering up at Mr. Crouch.

"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch!" she called defiantly. "Throw us into Azkaban, we will wait. He will return, and we will be waiting for him, we the faithful! All you blood-traitors have done is delay the inevitable cleansing!"

Crouch Jr. continued to fight the dementors. "I'm your son!" he wailed.

"I have no son!" Mr. Crouch roared. "Take them away! Take them away, may they rot!" Jeers rose from the crowd as the prisoners were dragged away.

"I think, Harry, it's time for us to return to my office," a quiet voice from Harry's left. Harry spun from the Dumbledore on his right, who had been watching the dementors drag the four away, to the Dumbledore on his left, who was staring right at him.

"Come," Dumbledore said gently, lifting Harry up by his elbow. After a moment of disorienting darkness, they arrived back in Dumbledore's office.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said automatically. "I just…"

"It's quite alright, Harry," Dumbledore said, gently lifting the bowl from the cabinet and placing it on his desk. "Curiosity is not a sin, but we should exercise caution."

Harry nodded, sitting when Dumbledore gestured to the chair across from him. "Professor, what is it?"

"This, Harry, is a Pensive," Dumbledore said. "It is a magical device to contain and view memories. I sometimes find that I have too many thoughts in my mind, and thus I pour them into the Pensive. It makes it easier to spot connections, detect patters, and is generally more convenient."

"So, this stuff is thoughts?" Harry asked, studying the silvery substance.

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, drawing his wand. "Let me show you." He placed the tip of his wand to his temple and drew what looked like a strand of the substance from his head, letting it drift down into the bowl. As it struck, the contents started swirling again before forming an image of Harry's face. "I was using it when Mr. Fudge arrived, and put it away rather hastily." His eyes were distant as he prodded the memories with his wand. Harry's face disappeared, and the figure of a teenage girl rose from the basin, glaring around. She took no notice of either Harry or Dumbledore, and when she spoke, it was in a distant, echoing voice.

"He put a hex on me, Professor!" she said. "I was only teasing him about kissing Florence behind the greenhouse…"

"But why, Bertha?" Dumbledore asked sadly. "Why did you follow him in the first place?" The figure had no answer, and sunk back into the Pensive.

"Er… Was that Bertha Jorkins, Professor?" Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded, still staring at his thoughts.

"That was Bertha as I knew her in school," he said quietly. "I was trying to reconcile that with the image of a woman who didn't return from holiday of her own volition."

The pair lapsed into silence for a moment longer before Dumbledore pushed the Pensive aside.

"Now, before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, the memory of why he had come rushing back into his mind. "I had another dream about Voldemort, in Divination. I… er… fell asleep." Dumbledore nodded patiently, gesturing Harry to continue. "Voldemort was getting news, that someone was dead, and that Wormtail… Pettigrew's blunder hadn't ruined everything. Then he used the Cruciatus Curse and woke me up."

"Did he say who's death?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, Professor," Harry admitted. "But I think it might be Mr. Crouch's."

"That certainly stands to reason," Dumbledore said. "Has your scar hurt any other times this year, other than the incident over the summer?"

"No, but how did you know about that?" Harry asked, slightly wrong-footed.

"You are not Sirius' only correspondent," Dumbledore said, his eyes distant. There was another long silence before Harry mustered the courage to speak again.

"Professor? Do you know why my scar hurts?" Dumbledore studied Harry for a moment.

"I believe that your scar hurts when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong emotion. That is only a theory, but it is the best one I can see."

"But why?" Harry asked.

"The two of you are connected by the curse that failed, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "It allows you an insight into Voldemort's mind." Another pause. "Did you see Voldemort?"

"No, sir," Harry said, taken aback by the question. "He was in a chair with it's back to me, and all I saw was his wand. I guess that means that he has a body of some sort…" Dumbledore didn't respond, he was still staring into the Pensive. As Harry waited for the headmaster to speak, he thought back over the dream. With a jerk, he remembered what he had seen. "Professor, there's something else."

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked, raising his bright blue eyes to Harry's.

"The… thing in my head," Harry said. "I think it was there too. Well… it seemed to be in the same position as I was, at least it reacted to me." Dumbledore looked interested.

"What did it do?" he asked.

"Not much," Harry said. "I only saw it right near the end. It seemed to be watching Voldemort torture Wormtail. It looked at me, though, and reacted to my presence."

"And what makes you think that it was the same presence that you've felt before?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, it was armored, and when I heard it coming up the stairs in that first dream, it defiantly sounded metallic." Harry shook his head helplessly. "That's it, really, it didn't even say anything."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers gently and studying Harry. "I have been considering, Harry, and I have a question." Harry nodded slowly. "You say that this presence has spoken to you. Have you ever tried speaking back?"

"Er… no," Harry said. "I've always… I just…"

"It is perfectly natural to be nervous around things that you do not understand, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "I could be entirely wrong that talking will help. However, it seems that the presence has made no deliberate actions to hurt you. Indeed, it sought to protect you. Please, the next time you're in the dream that it seems cause, try speaking with it, figure out its motives."

Harry nodded. "I will, Professor." He glanced back at the Pensive, his thoughts drifting to Voldemort. "Professor, do you think that Voldemort will rise again?"

"I certainly hope not, Harry," Dumbledore said tiredly. "But I can say this: the years of Voldemort's first ascent to power were marked with disappearances and deaths. Bertha disappeared in Albania, where Voldemort was rumored to be last. Mr. Crouch was murdered on these very grounds. And there was another disappearance, one that the Ministry seems to consider unimportant. I speak of a Muggle named Frank Bryce, who lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up. Indeed, he tended to the family garden. He hasn't been seen since last August."

"Wait… Was this Frank Bryce an old man?" Harry asked warily.

"Yes, he was." Dumbledore said, nodding.

"In the first dream, there was an old man who was killed," Harry said, thinking hard. "I don't remember many details, but is it possible that he's the same person?"

"It is," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps even probable; I suspect that all these things are connected. The Ministry, however, seems to disagree."

Harry watched Dumbledore think, occasionally pulling another thought from his head and placing it in the Pensive. "Er, Professor, can I ask about the trials?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, looking up.

"In the trial with Crouch's son… were they talking about Neville's parents?"

Dumbledore's gaze turned sharp. "Has Neville never told you why he grew up with his grandmother?" he asked quietly.

"No…" Harry said, suddenly realizing how little he knew about Neville, despite knowing him for almost four years.

"Yes, they were talking about Neville's parents," Dumbledore said, his eyes sad. "As you heard, they were tortured into insanity shortly after Voldemort's fall. I believe that Neville still visits them, though they do not recognize him."

Harry blinked, horror coursing through him. Dead was one thing, but to be able to see them, only to be seen as a stranger…

"The attacks caused a wave of fury the likes of which I'd never seen before," Dumbledore continued. "Unfortunately, the information the Ministry had… wasn't completely reliable."

"So Crouch's son might not have been involved?" Harry whispered.

"I do not know, Harry."

"And Bagman? Snape?" Harry asked.

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "Neither of them have been accused of any Dark actions since."

There was a note of finality in Dumbledore's voice as he said this, indicating that it was time for Harry to leave. However as Harry stood, Dumbledore spoke up once more.

"Remember, try to speak to the presence next time you can, Harry. I also ask that you do not speak to anyone about Neville's parents, it's his right to talk about it when he wishes too." Harry had had no intention of telling anyone else about Neville's parents, so he nodded. "And Harry, good luck on the Third Task."

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed quickly for Harry. Ron and Hermione were horrified when he told them what he had witnessed, and how Dumbledore thought that Voldemort was growing stronger. Harry suspected that Sirius, to whom he'd sent a letter as soon as he could, would be worried as well.<p>

That night, as Harry went to sleep, he started bracing himself for what was to come. Dumbledore himself had admitted that he didn't know if speaking to the presence would work, but Harry had to admit, he was tired of running from the problem. It was time to face it head on.

He found himself once again sitting in his dream bed, looking around an empty dormitory. He rose to his feet, took a deep breath, and walked to the door. He checked to make sure his wand was in his pocket, within easy reach, and unbolted the door and pushed it open.

Harry half expected the armored figure from the dream to be standing right outside, waiting for him, but there was no sign of it. The torches were already burning this time, though they remained a cool blue. Harry slowly made his way down the spiral staircase, his ears pricked for any sound of metal. The first thin that he noticed was that the beating heart sound was absent.

'Did I kill it?' Harry thought as he continued his decent.

He paused when he reached the second door, blinking. The trip hadn't taken nearly as long as it should have, it seemed that the stairwell was shorter than it had been the last time that Harry had walked it. Shaking his head, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"You may enter," the voice said after a long moment, it's voice far less echoing than before. Harry steeled himself and pushed the door open, expecting to step back into the crypt once more.

Therefore, he was surprised when the door opened into what looked like, at first glance, a perfect copy of Dumbledore's office. However, Harry quickly noticed several differences. The first and most obvious was the fact that neither Fawkes the Phoenix nor his perch were anywhere to be found. The shelves also were also almost bare, the various silver instruments and curiosities nowhere in sight.

Harry's eyes were drawn, however, to the armored figure standing by the window, staring out into an empty darkness.

"I must admit, I was not expecting this," the figure mused, still not looking at Harry. "I had thought that you would stay away."

Harry watched the figure curiously. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," he said finally.

The figure turned, its eyes glowing through the slit of its helmet. The armor was lighter than the various suits around Hogwarts, and seemed to be made of silver rather than iron or steel. It had an odd crest stamped on the chest piece, a circle; quartered and with a symbol stamped into each of the parts: a sun, a circle of bones, a flower, and a circular flame. The figure wore what looked like the lower portions of a robe around its waist, with the symbol stitched into the fabric.

"Who are you?" Harry asked after a long silence.

"I am Justice," the figure said.

"Justice…" Harry whispered. "You were the one talking to Anders, in the dream…"

"Yes," Justice said quietly. "As I lay sleeping, my own dreams entered yours, as my thoughts did. You saw pieces of my past, shadows of my deeds." He sighed slightly. "I… apologize, for what you saw. I know it was not pleasant."

"Well, I didn't' actually see much," Harry said. "Mostly, I heard things."

"Interesting…" Justice said quietly. "Perhaps the connection…" he shook his head. "No matter, it is not important."

"So, why are you here?" Harry asked.

"When Anders died, I sought to return to where I was meant to be, the Fade," Justice said quietly. "However, it was weak, and could not support me, and I began to die. In desperation, I fled to the nearest place that could support me. That place was your mind."

"Then why haven't you spoken to me before?" Harry asked.

"I barely survived my brush with a Fadeless world," Justice said. "In mortal terms, I was in a coma." He turned back to the window as he said this.

"What now?" Harry asked.

"That is up to you, Harry Potter. I… owe you much, more than you know." Justice paused. "You deserve to know that I am not safe."

"What do you mean?"

"I have done terrible things, and the darkness within me lives on, though the light of your soul has dulled it. If you continue to allow me residence within you, I may bring great harm, to you and all those around you."

"But, you said that you can't live without a host. If you leave, you'll die, right?" Justice nodded. "Then you can't really go, can you. I mean, you saved my life that night Mr. Crouch was killed, so I can't just kick you out to your death."

"…Thank you, Harry Potter," Justice said quietly.

"You can just use my first name," Harry said, slightly embarrassed. Justice turned back, studying Harry for a long moment.

"Very well."

"So, will you be able to talk when I'm awake, or just when I'm sleeping?" Harry asked.

"Now that the block… the 'door,' is open, you will be able to understand me at all times," Justice said.

The two stood in silence for a minute. Justice's glowing eyes remained fixed on Harry, who looked around the room. "If you don't mind, why does the room look like this?" Harry asked. "The last time I was here it was more… gloomy.

"This is not the same place. My own realm is deeper, where you first found me. No, this is a meeting place." Justice explained, stepping away from the window and running his armored hand along the copy of Dumbledore's desk. "Everything here is the expression of a though, your thoughts, to be precise. The reason that the room has taken this form is because you came seeking answers."

"And Dumbledore's office is where I go for answers," Harry said slowly.

"Precisely. If you wished, you could change it to another place from your memories." Curious, Harry focused on the Gryffindor common room, causing the room to shift and morph. After a few seconds, the pair were standing in the center of the room. Again, it was much more bare than the true Gryffindor common room.

"What's the Pensive doing here?" Harry asked when he noticed the stone bowl sitting on a table. He had noticed it in Dumbledore's office, but had thought that it was just part of the decoration.

"It serves much the same purpose as the true one; it is a storage place for memories," Justice said. "Any memory, even the smallest ones from your childhood, can be found within. It changed when you first learned what the Pensive did, before it was a filing cabinet. I believe the same one from Argus Filch's office."

"So… everything's in there?" Harry whispered, staring at the swirling silver.

"Yes," Justice said. "Do you want to see?"

Harry thought for a long moment before shaking his head. "Maybe some other time." He turned back to Justice. "So, after you woke up and I shut you out, what did you do?"

"Observed," Justice said. "I have watched, trying to understand this new world I find myself in." He seemed to sigh. "This place is so different from anything I have experienced before. Mages… free, able to go about their business… It is fascinating."

"What do you mean? You come from another world?" Harry said.

"I do," Justice said. "Anders and myself stumbled through a portal the likes of which I have never seen before, and arrived here."

"How did Anders die?" Harry asked. Justice's eyes flared for a moment before he sighed again.

"…A story for another time, unless you truly wish to know." Harry shook his head. "Thank you. Thinking about such things… is painful, for me." Harry remembered the "darkness" that Justice had mentioned, and decided to return to safer ground.

"So, it was you, in the dream about Voldemort?" he asked.

"Yes, I witnessed the maleficar's actions," Justice said, his voice cold. "And I know, through you, of his previous crimes."

"Mal… mele…" Harry asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

"Maleficar, one who practices forbidden magics," Justice said, sounding like a combination of a dictionary and a sermon. "I can think of no better description for this Voldemort."

"Yeah, I guess that does fit," Harry said.

"I also know of this tournament you have been forced into, and the potential that it is a trap set by Voldemort," Justice said quietly. "I know little in the way of spells as you think of them, but I am a being of magic, so I will do what I can to aid you."

"Wait…" Harry said. "When you were unconscious, I seemed to learn magic faster, but once you woke up, that went away."

"You are correct, that knowledge came from me. Now that the connection has been restored, we will be able to work together again." Justice cocked his head slightly, seeming to think. "Your body stirs in the mortal world. Arise, we will continue this conversation another time."

"Before I go, what should I tell the others?" Harry asked. Justice stared at him for a long moment.

"I… would prefer it if my nature remained between us, for the time being. I…"

"That's okay," Harry said quickly. "It's your decision."

* * *

><p>The final month before the Third Task was both unnerving and exhilarating. On the one hand, Harry was about to go through the final task of a tournament, which meant that, whatever Voldemort's plan was, it was coming to a head. Still, with Ron, Hermione, and Justice helping him prepare, along with his previous experiences with monsters and enchantments, he couldn't help but feel confident about this task.<p>

"It is good to be confident," Hermione said when he told her about his feeling, "so long as you don't become overconfident. Let's try that Reductor Curse again."

Ron and Hermione really should have been spending their time studying for the exams that they still had to take, but insisted on working with him whenever they could.

"Look at it this way, Defense Against the Dark Arts will go well," Ron said cheerfully as he froze a fly with _Impedimenta_.

Even some of the teachers were helping in their own small way. Professor McGonagall had offered the trio use of the Transfiguration classroom to practice, thought this might just have been because she was tired of finding them elsewhere at odd hours.

Thanks to Justice's knowledge of magic, Harry was once more finding practical magic relatively easy to learn, and since the spirit was now able to discuss with Harry why certain things happened, Harry could now rely on his knowledge as well as instinct.

Still, Harry couldn't focus entirely on the task, no matter how much he might want to. Homework was still being assigned, especially in Potions. Snape seemed to be in a bad mood, and Harry suspected that it was because he wouldn't get an attempt to try and fail Harry at potions this year.

"Hey, take a look at this," Ron said, glancing out the window of the Transfiguration classroom three days before the twenty-fourth, and the task. "What's Malfoy up to?"

Harry glanced over, letting the Shield Charm he had been holding fall. "What's he doing," he asked as he walked over to stand beside Ron at the window. With a snort, Hermione joined them.

Malfoy was sitting under one of the trees near the lake, with Crabbe and Goyle standing guard. The blonde boy had his hand up near his mouth, and was smirking slightly as he spoke into it.

"It almost looks like he's using a walkie-talkie…" Harry said slowly, squinting and trying to get a better look. 'Any ideas, Justice?' he thought.

'It is too far for me to sense magic,' Justice thought back. 'So no, I do not know what he is doing.'

"He can't be," said Hermione, frustrated, "I've told you, those sorts of things don't work around Hogwarts. Come on, Harry," she added briskly, turning away from the window and moving back into the middle of the room, "let's try that Shield Charm again."

Sirius also seemed tense. His letters, which were now coming every day (Harry wondered where he was getting all his ink,) were constantly repeating a few fundamental facts: be careful, prepare for the task, and keep your head down.

The day of the task dawned like any other, a warm, calm June day. The Great Hall was much noisier than usual, everyone was excited for the finish of the Triwizard Tournament.

'It's a shame I have to actually go to the exams, even if I don't take them,' Harry thought to Justice as he chewed on some toast. 'It would be so much more simple if I could just go… somewhere, and practice some more.'

'You have prepared as well as anyone could expect,' Justice said calmingly. 'Remember what you've learned, and you will triumph.' Harry smiled slightly, for all his talk about being unstable, Justice was proving to be a pillar of support. 'I can still hear you,' Justice reminded him.

'Is there any way to prevent that?' Harry grumbled as the post owls flocked into the Hall. Sirius had sent one more letter, a simple, muddy paw print, which Harry found much more comforting than his previous worried letters.

Hermione, meanwhile, had paid off the owl carrying the Daily Prophet and was in the process of opening it. Unfortunately, she had just taken a sip of pumpkin juice, so the spit take that resulted from whatever was on the first page was quite spectacular.

"What, no way!" she gasped, staring at it. Ron, who was sitting beside her, glanced over he shoulder. His jaw dropped.

"That old cow…" he whispered. Harry sighed.

"It's about me, right?"

"No," Ron and Hermione said at the same time, trying to shove the paper out of sight. Their efforts were undermined, however, by Malfoy shouting from the Slytherin table.

"Hey Potter!" he shouted. ""How's your head? You aren't going to go berserk on us, are you?" Several other Slytherins laughed at this.

Harry ignored Malfoy and held out his hand. "Give it here," he said tiredly. Hermione nervously held out the paper. Harry briefly studied the picture of himself before reading the article.

HARRY POTTER "DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS!"

_The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named__ is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes __Rita Skeeter__, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the __Triwizard Tournament__, or even to attend __Hogwarts School__. Potter, the __Daily Prophet__ can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the __curse__ with which __You-Know-Who__ attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a __Divination__ lesson, your __Daily Prophet__ reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying. It is possible, say top experts at __St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries__, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion. "He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention." The __Daily Prophet__, however, has unearthed worrying facts about __Harry Potter__ that __Albus Dumbledore__, __Headmaster__ of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public. "Potter can speak __Parseltongue__," reveals __Draco Malfoy__, a Hogwarts __fourth year__._ "_There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a __dueling club__ and set a __snake__ on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with __werewolves__ and __giants__ too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power." __Parseltongue__, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a __Dark Art__. Indeed, the most famous __Parselmouth__ of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the __Dark Force Defense League__, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any __wizard__ who could speak Parseltongue "as a worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as __serpents__ are often used in the worst kinds of __Dark Magic__, and are historically associated evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence." __Albus Dumbledore__ should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the __Triwizard Tournament__. Some fear that Potter might resort to the __Dark Arts__ in his desperation to win the tournament, the __third task__ of which takes place this evening._

Justice snarled in annoyance in the back of Harry's mind, but Harry chuckled lightly. "She's gone off me a bit, hasn't she?"

Hermione had more pressing concerns. "How did she know your scar hurt in Divination? Only Gryffindors were up there, none of them would have told her."

"I opened the window for some air," Harry said, causing Hermione to sigh in frustration.

"You were up at the top of the North Tower, Harry. There's no way your voice could have drifted all the way down to the grounds!"

"You're the one who's researching magical methods of bugging," Harry said, looking back over the article.

"I've been trying!" Hermione hissed. "But I… but…"

Harry glanced up as Hermione's voice trailed off, and was surprised to see her staring into the distance, running her fingers through her hair. Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged.

"Hermione, are you alright?" the redhead asked as Hermione shifted her hand to her mouth.

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "I think I know how she's doing it… I just need to go the library to check… If I'm right, then I've got her! I've got her!" Hermione leapt to her feet, grabbed her bag, and sprinted out of the hall.

"Oi!" Ron shouted after her. "We've got Binns in five minutes! Wow, she must really hate Skeeter, if she's risking missing the start of an exam to get her." He shook his head. "Well, we should probably get going." Harry nodded, he had a book and was interested in asking Justice about something he'd read.

However, he was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Potter, the champions are meeting in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast."

"Why?" Harry asked, confused. "I thought the Task wasn't until this evening."

"It is," Professor McGonagall said. "The champion's families are invited to come to Hogwarts to watch the Third Task. This is your chance to greet them." With that, she turned and left the Hall.

Harry stared after her. She couldn't really expect the Dursleys to come, could she? And even if they were bullied or coerced into showing up, Harry had no wish to see them before he absolutely had to.

However, as Harry headed towards the door, thinking that he might as well use the time to get some last minute practice in, Cedric stuck his head out of the door to the ante-chamber. "Come on, Harry, they're waiting for you," he called. Sighing, Harry stalked over, bracing himself for a less-than-warm greeting.

Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his fathers hooked nose. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry, who nodded back. Finally, he caught sight of Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said warmly, causing Harry's heart to rise considerably as he hurried over. "We thought that we'd come and watch you, Harry."

"All right?" Bill said, grinning from ear to ear. "Charlie and Dad wanted to come too, but they couldn't get time off."

"This is really nice of you," Harry said quietly. "For a moment, I thought the Dursleys were coming." Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips at the mention of Harry's relatives; she tried not to show it, but it was clear that she did not approve of them at all.

"Haven't seen this place in five years," Bill said. "How are all the old portraits doing? Is that mad knight Sir Cadogan still around."

"Yeah, he's still here," Harry said, suppressing the memories of the chaotic time when he had been the guardian of the Gryffindor common room; him and his ever-changing passwords.

"Let's take a look around the castle," Mrs. Weasley said warmly. Harry and Bill nodded, heading for the door.

They were interrupted by Mr. Diggory, whose eyes narrowed when he noticed Harry. "There you are," he said coldly. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Cedric pinch the bridge of his nose. "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now that Cedric's caught up in points, are you?"

"What?" Harry asked, though he had a fair idea what Mr. Diggory's problem was.

"Ignore him," Cedric said quietly. "He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament, the one where she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion."

"Didn't bother correcting her, did he?" Mr. Diggory said coolly. "Still, you'll show him, Ced. Beat him once already."

'Is he referring to the time when the dementors assaulted you?' Justice asked.

'I think so,' Harry sighed, preventing himself from rolling his eyes.

"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause problems!" Mrs. Weasley hissed, glaring at Mr. Diggory. "I thought you would have known that, working at the Ministry!"

Mr. Diggory looked like he was about to argue, but both his wife and his son placed a hand oh his arms, causing him to shrug and turn away.

As Harry led the way out to the grounds, he noticed that Justice was annoyed for some reason. 'What's your problem?' he asked as he pointed out the Womping Willow to Mrs. Weasley, who had left school before it was planted.

'This Mrs. Weasley,' Justice said, 'she spoke truth when she said that Rita Skeeter revels in causing problems. However, she does not take her own advice.' Harry was about to ask what Justice was talking about before remembering Easter.

'I should probably talk to her about that,' Harry thought. 'She'll be meeting Hermione at lunch.'

"Hey, Mrs. Weasley, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Harry said. This wasn't strictly true, but he wanted to soften the conversation as much as possible.

"Yes, Harry dear," she said as they headed towards the greenhouses.

"Hermione's not my girlfriend," Harry said. "Rita Skeeter made that up too."

"Oh…" Mrs. Weasley said, her face reddening slightly.

"It's nice that you care, though," Harry said, smiling. Mrs. Weasley and Bill grinned back, and the tour continued without any more incidents. The three headed back to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Mum? Bill?" Ron asked when he arrived. "What're you doing here?"

"We've come to watch Harry in the last task," Mrs. Weasley said warmly. "I must say, it's nice to not have to cook for a change. How was your exam?"

"Oh, okay," Ron said, smiling ruefully. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I had to make a few up." Noticing his mother's stern expression, he continued. "Don't worry, they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean, it wasn't hard." Harry chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

Fred, George, and Ginny soon arrived as well, and for a while Harry could almost forget what was waiting for him. He was glad that, when Hermione showed up, Mrs. Weasley didn't mention their conversation, simply giving Hermione a warm smile that probably surprised the bushy-haired girl.

The rest of the day passed quickly, though as the sun began to fall lower in the sky, Harry remembered what was coming and his nerves started mounting. Finally, Harry, the Weasleys, and Hermione were gathered near the center of the Gryffindor table for dinner.

"What's he doing here?" Ron asked, nodding towards Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting on Dumbledore's left.

"Percy's under a lot of pressure right now," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. "The Ministry's holding an inquire as to whether the letters Mr. Crouch sent were really written by him. That means that Mr. Fudge is judging in his place."

The meal seemed to drag on for hours, and Harry's appetite wasn't working properly. It was only through the insistence of everyone around him, including Justice, that he ate anything at all.

'You'll regret it later if you don't eat,' the spirit said. 'Without nourishment, the body begins to fail, making you less effective in a dangerous situation.'

Finally, Dumbledore rose to his feet, bringing a sudden halt to the conversations. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he called out. "In five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium at this time."

Harry slowly rose to his feet. As he walked towards the door, surrounded by the cheers of the Gryffindors, he noticed that, ironically, each of the House Tables had a champion. He shook this though from his mind as the four headed down the slope towards the Quidditch field. Krum still wasn't showing much emotion, but Harry could see him twirling his wand through his fingers as he walked. Fleur seemed nervous but determined, and Cedric looked just like Harry felt: confident, but aware that things could go terribly wrong.

'You have bested a dragon and the creatures of the deep,' Justice said quietly. 'These are no small feats. Hold your head up high, Harry; you can succeed.'

'Thanks, Justice,' Harry thought back, smiling. He noticed Bagman glance at him several times, and chose to walk closer to Cedric to avoid another offer of help.

The Quidditch pitch was completely unrecognizable. The hedges had grown to be twenty feet, an their leaves were almost pitch black in the darkness.

"Alright, everyone!" Bagman said, bouncing on his feet. "You've all done really well to get here. The rules of this task haven't changed from last month: get to the center of the maze, touch the cup, and you win. Good luck, and have fun while you're at it!" He gestured to several people standing nearby; Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick. "These are our patrollers. If you get into trouble that you can't get out of yourself, send up red sparks, and one of them will come to collect you."

The stands were filling up, and before Harry knew it, and after ten minutes, Bagman raised his wand to his neck and muttered _"Sonorus!"_ before calling into the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, centered himself, and waited. "Harry, Cedric, are you ready?"

"I am," they both said.

"Then three…two…one…GO!" A whistle blew as he said this.

Harry's eyes sprung open as he and Cedric hurried forward into the maze, lighting their wands as they did. They went about fifty feet before reaching a fork.

"See you on the other side," Harry said quietly, taking the left path. As he continued on, he heard two more blasts of the whistle, but other than that, nothing. Even the roaring crowd was silent.

'Likely to prevent supporters from guiding champions,' Justice said, his voice distant. 'But… I thought that this was supposed to be a challenge?'

"It is," Harry muttered, taking comfort in the sound of his voice as he used Point Me to check which way he should be going. "You'd have thought we'd have seen something by now."

'Indeed… I sense nothing in our vicinity,' Justice said. 'I cannot detect most creatures, but the promised enchantments seem to be lacking.'

Harry continued, checking his progress as he did. Finally, Justice spoke again.

'Cedric Diggory is approaching from your left,' he said. Harry turned in time to see the older by burst from a side passage, panting.

"Hagrid's last Blast Ended!" he hissed, and Harry noticed his smoking sleeve. "I just got away, be careful." With that, he turned and rushed down a different passage.

"Good thing we probably don't have to go that way," Harry muttered to Justice, continuing down the passage he had been on. He turned another corner just in time to see a dementor gliding towards him.

Immediately images and sounds started flooding his mind. A pillar of red light… Voldemort's laugh… a knife driving itself into a mans gut…

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" Harry roared, shoving these thoughts aside and focusing on Ron and Hermione… the Weasleys… Sirius… everyone who cared about him.

A silver stag burst from the end of his want. It seemed different, however, and it took Harry a moment to realize that it seemed to be wearing armor. This did not hinder it in the slightest as it barreled towards the dementor, causing it to stumble.

"You're no dementor!" Harry shouted, advancing. "Begone, boggart! _Riddikulus_!" The dementor started coughing, and suddenly a long, slimy tongue sprouted from its hood, mimicking effects of Fred and George's Ton-Tongue Toffees. With a snort of laughter, Harry dispelled the shapeshifter.

'That's it?' Justice asked.

"For the moment, at least," Harry said as he darted forward. Another few empty turns later, Harry finally found a magical barrier.

"What does this thing do?" Harry muttered, staring at the gold mist.

'One moment…' Justice said. Harry started pacing, thinking. He had learned several counter-curses, but without a better idea of what this did, he didn't know which one to use.

A sudden scream split the air ahead of him; a very feminine scream.

"Fleur!" Harry called, trying to get a response. There was none, nor was there any sign of red sparks. Maybe she was alright, but the scream had cut off far too suddenly for Harry's liking "Hurry up!" Harry hissed, glaring at the mist.

'It's a simple disorientation barrier,' Justice said. 'Go on, I'll counteract it myself. Hurry!'

Harry needed no further urging, sprinting through the mist. The world momentarily spun, causing Harry to stumble, but Justice was as good as his word, and Harry continued on.

'Can you sense her?' he though to Justice, too worried to speak.

'… I can, and she's in no danger,' Justice said after a moment. 'She's on the other side of this hedge.' He paused. 'Should we try to find her, or mark her position with red sparks and carry on?'

"… Carry on," Harry said finally. He didn't want Fleur hurt, but couldn't help but admit that the potential of winning the tournament was an enticing one. He carefully aimed and fired a volley of red sparks up before rushing on.

Another few turns, Harry was still finding that he wasn't being challenged much. Hagrid's skrewt had shown up, but Harry had followed Hermione's example and transfigured the ground into a temporary bog, keeping it stuck.

'Unless I am mistake, Viktor Krum is currently running parallel to us,' Justice said. 'There's… something about his state… And Cedric Diggory…' Justice was interrupted by the sound of sudden voices.

"What're you doing?" Cedric shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

Harry's blood chilled as Krum spoke one word. _"Crucio!"_

"No way…" Harry whispered as Cedric started screaming. "Where's Krum?" he growled, pointing his wand at the hedge.

'Right there' Justice said coldly, causing a bluish aura to spring up on the other side of the hedge. Harry aimed at it and cast _Stupefy_ with all his strength.

The spell blasted through the plant barrier and tossed Krum into the opposite hedge. Cedric's screams stopped.

"Are you alright?" Harry shouted, pressing himself up against the hedge. Cedric took a long moment to respond, and Harry was about to burn his way through to check on him before he spoke up.

"Yeah…" he gasped. "I don't believe it! One second I was just jogging along, then suddenly he has his wand on me!"

"Do you think he got Fleur too?" Harry asked.

"Probably," Cedric muttered. "Should I fire up sparks?"

"Probably, otherwise a skrewt might eat him."

"He'd deserve it," Cedric muttered, but after a moment red sparks flew up into the air. "Well, that's that. It's just the two of us now."

"Yeah…" Harry said, and after a long moment the two parted.

'There was something wrong with him,' Justice said quietly. 'His mind was… addled.'

'Do you think he was being controlled? Like Imperius?' Harry thought back.

'It is a possibility,' Justice said. 'If that's so, then we may have discovered Voldemort's plan.' Harry could tell that the spirit doubted this.

'Let's get this over with.' The pair continued on, the maze growing darker around them. Finally, Harry found another creature.

It was a sphinx, a sentient, riddle-telling creature. She was pacing, her bright eyes trained on Harry.

"Let me guess," Harry said as he approached. "You have a riddle, and if I get it right, I can pass."

"Yes, I do," she said, seeming slightly put out. "Do you wish to hear it."

"Of course," Harry said, bracing himself.

The sphinx smiled, settled herself in the middle of the path, and opened her mouth. "First think of a person who lives in disguise, who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies. Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend, the middle of middle, the end of end. And finally give me the sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word. String them together, and answer me this, what is a creature you would be unwilling to kiss?"

'A spider,' Justice said immediately. Harry worked through the clues: a spy, d, and er.

'How'd you get it so fast?' Harry asked as he gave the answer.

'Spirits have always had a fondness for riddles, it gives us something to do with our minds,' Justice said.

The sphinx, meanwhile, was spluttering. "That's it?" she said, stepping aside but staring at him, stunned. "You barely thought for a second!"

"I'm just good with riddles," Harry said, jogging past. "Thank you," he called.

'The cup is near, I can sense the magic within,' Justice said. 'Turn right here.' Harry complied, and after a few more turns, he finally saw it. The Cup was sitting on a pedestal, glowing with an inner light.

Harry started sprinting, there was no sign of Cedric! He was going to win!

'BEHIND YOU!' Justice roared. Harry turned just in time to see a dark shape bearing down on him. He threw himself into a forward roll, feeling a hairy leg sweep over him. Spinning he caught a glimpse of the massive spider standing over him.

"_STUPIFY_!" he screamed, firing a jet of red light into its face. The spider simply shrugged it off, causing Harry to jump back.

'Use a direct attack! _Reducto_!' Justice hissed.

Harry stumbled backwards, falling onto his back as he tried to dodge again. "_Reducto_!" he shouted as the spider bared its fangs.

The jet of blue light blew through the spider's head, causing it to explode and spray the area with clear blood. After a moment, the massive beast toppled over, flattening one of the hedges as it did.

Harry slowly climbed to his feet, staring at the dead body in front of him. Finally, he turned and walked towards the Cup, which was still shining innocently. It was over, it was finally over. Cedric was nowhere in sight; it was just Harry, Justice, and the Cup.

'Take it, Harry,' Justice said. 'Let us end this.' Harry nodded mutely, before reaching out and gripping the handle.

He felt a sudden jerk, and his feet left the ground in a rush of sound.

* * *

><p>Cedric Diggory smiled sadly as he watched Harry approach the Cup. He had arrived just as Harry blew the acromantula's head off.<p>

If he was honest, he couldn't think of any of the champions who really deserved to win the Tournament more. Harry was fourteen, he shouldn't have had a chance. But he had persevered, and hadn't sacrificed his honor to do so. Harry had told him exactly what to expect for the First Task, while he, Cedric, had given Harry the most obscure clue he could. And still, Harry had pushed through, continuing to save lives even in the maze, when many would have simply ran onwards. And he had done all this with the shadow of his… unexpected… entrance into the tournament.

Cedric had wanted to win the Triwizard Tournament, had wanted to see his father's face shining with pride. But he was mature enough to admit that Harry had won, fair and square, and his father would have to deal with it.

Therefore, Cedric had remained silent as Harry walked slowly towards the cup, hiding slightly so that if Harry were to look around, he wouldn't be spooked by the sight of him.

"Go on, Harry," he breathed. "Go claim your victory, you've earned it."

Harry's hand clenched around the Cup's handle, and he suddenly vanished.

Cedric blinked, he hadn't been expecting that. He ran over to the pedestal, jumping over the tangled legs of the dead spider. That disappearance had looked like a Portkey, but that was…

Then it hit Cedric. Dumbledore must have enchanted the cup to take the Champion back out of the maze, so that any… less scrupulous champion wouldn't ambush the winner and take the cup themselves. Smiling grimly, Cedric thought of Krum and how Dumbledore's plan was probably a smart one.

He raised his wand and fired a volley of green sparks, marking his position. After a few minutes, Professor McGonagall arrived, the hedges bending obediently to accommodate her.

"Mr. Diggory, are you alright?" she asked, looking him over before glancing at the dead spider. "Where is the Cup?"

"Harry got it," Cedric said, forcing the disappointment out of his voice. "I was just letting you know where I was so I wouldn't have to make my own way out."

"Mr. Potter got the Cup?" Professor McGonagall said, confused. "But there's no sign of him at the entrance…"

"Well, the cup did Portkey him," Cedric said slowly. The pair looked at each other, panic beginning to show on their faces.

"If he's not at the entrance, where did he go?"

AN: The first major change has taken place! Yes, Cedric Diggory gets to remain among the living, and will play a part in a later part of the story (because he's just so cool. I like him).

Justice has shown himself as well, which means that things are going to start getting much more interesting.

I'm afraid I won't be able to write for a while, finals are coming before too long.


	10. Maleficar's Rise

Disclaimer: Same as always. Seriously, I'd stop putting this up here if I wasn't afraid of getting sued.

Reviewer Response:

Neristhaed: Remember, they're both in Harry's mind, which means their interaction goes beyond simple words. On a subconscious level, they both sense that the other means them no harm (At least that's what I believe). As for Dumbledore, he has thought of Horcruxs after the diary, and probably thinks Harry is one. He also recognizes that Justice is not acting anything like a Horcrux, and he's seen the magical readings Madam Pomfrey's been taking, so he knows there's more going on.

ShotgunWilly: Sorry, the Grey Wardens are unlikely to make an appearance, same with the Darkspawn. Harry's world has enough problems without a Blight causing havoc.

lyris musetta: Harry's going to have to work to keep his temper to avoid Vengeance making a resurgence. More than that I cannot say.

Danget the critic: Unfortunately, Justice is not all powerful, and he doesn't want to get directly involved (reasons for that to be explained in the story, probably next chapter) As for the connection, it's been around longer than Justice, so it won't be so easy to get rid of. (Besides, if Voldemort didn't rise, we wouldn't have much of a story.)

Pairings, see the AN at the bottom of the page, I'm getting ready to settle it once and for all.

FreelanceBum: The canon recap is because there are things that were set in motion before Justice's arrival that wouldn't change unless he or changed Harry had some reason to actively seek to alter them, which they don't. I have a potential plan to completely shake things up (see the AN at the bottom).

Cjonwalrus: Now if we can just find some way to get rid of Bella, my work will be complete…

Nauro: Yes, things are changing.

crazyjim87: Morrigan will not be making an appearance in this story, and Bellatrax… ugg. Pairings are discussed in the AN.

Andrew MacKenzie: There will be elements of Vengeance, though both Harry and Justice will be actively working to suppress that bit.

metal.v2: Harry is not yet stronger than Voldemort (This chapter will still end with him running with his tail between his legs.) He will simply be strong enough to actually give the Death Eaters a fight. The glowing is, in some ways, a sign of weakness rather than strength. Harry gains power, but loses control. If he fully gave in, he would have more raw power than anyone else but would be reduced to thrashing around with it. Justice also has a lot of issues of his own to work through. They both still have a long way to go. (At least, that's what I'm going for.)

Thanks for the constructive criticism, though. I'll try to follow it in the future.

TheDudeMan400: Hope they went well for you, and thank you for the kind words.

Maben00: Thank you.

Narutofan020: Unfortunately, Cedric surviving means that, if anything, there will be fewer people believing Harry since he can't say "Explain how Cedric died." The simple fact is that the Ministry doesn't want to believe, and thus they stick their heads in the dirt and ignore everything.

Sythe: There are unconscious factors at work between Harry and Justice that I believe explains the trust, as well as Harry remembering that Justice has never actually caused him harm, simply scared him a bit in the crypt.

I've checked out the forum, and unfortunately the first story is one that I cannot fairly review, since I _hate_ rivelmances with an unholy passion. Until a new story is on top, I won't be able to participate.

Rizaidym: Harry's going to put up more of a fight, though he's still going to be outmatched. I plan on continuing this story at least until Voldemort is dust.

Violet Shadows: As much as Dragon Age 2 wants you to think otherwise, Mass Effect and Dragon Age are not the same thing, so Harry won't be acting like Commander Shepard. As for the rehashing, if Justice's presence wouldn't change something, it won't. Never fear, it will be stopping soon.

Virmin-lord: Thanks for the review, and if you like Harry/Luna, look at the AN and act accordingly.

Ibskib: Thanks for pointing CONSTANT VIGILANCE out, and if you want to beta or know someone who would, I'd be happy to let you. As for pairings, check the AN out.

kinda evil: I'm glad you like the story : ).

Chou ni Natte: I'm glad you like the story and I hope you continue reading. I always intended there to be romance, I just didn't think the Yule Ball through very well.

Just out of curiosity, does your name mean anything?

Eromancer: Don't worry, the story isn't dead, I've just had a lot to do recently.

Wow, this set of responses was longer than Chapter 6's… Let's go.

Chapter 9: Maleficar's Rise

Harry stumbled as his feet hit the ground, but was able to remain standing.

'What just happened?' he thought, confused.

'I do not know,' Justice thought back. 'I am still confused about this teleportation, where I come from it is impossible.'

'The spell probably just hasn't been discovered yet,' Harry mused, looking around. It was dark, so it took a moment to recognize the dark shapes around him as headstones. 'I was more wondering why we're in a graveyard.'

'An important question, and unfortunately, one I do not have an answer for. Be on your guard, Harry.'

"Don't have to tell me twice," Harry muttered as he raised his still lit want, squinting into the darkness. For a long moment, he thought he was alone, but he couldn't help but feel he was being watched.

'Someone else is here,' Justice said suddenly. 'And there is… something else…'

Harry spun around, his eyes finding the moving shadow walking towards him. It seemed like a man, and he was carrying something in his arms, something that looked like a wrapped baby… except the sight of babies didn't fill Harry with a nameless dread that went along with the dull pounding of his lightning scar…

"Voldemort…" Harry whispered.

Suddenly, the pain in his scar flared as if someone had pressed a hot brand across his forehead. Almost blind, Harry fell to his knees, crying out.

'ON YOUR FEET!' Justice roared in Harry's mind. 'MOVE NOW!'

"I'm… trying…" Harry ground out, pressing his hands against the ground to steady himself.

He distantly heard footsteps approaching before his shoulders were grabbed and he was pulled to his feet.

"Let me go!" Harry growled, jerking himself out of the man's grip. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes.

"_Stupefy!_" he heard the man hiss before a wave of numbness swept over him, causing him to fall back to the ground.

'Not on my watch,' Justice snarled, his power flaring up and driving the stun from Harry's body. Harry blinked as the man reached down for him again. With a growl, Harry drew his legs back and kicked the man in the chest as hard as he could, causing him to stumble back with a pained grunt.

By the time the man had regained his balance, Harry was on his feet with his wand out and pointed at the man's face. "Who are you and what do you want?" Harry asked. The pain in his scar had not faded, but he had adapted to it enough to function, at least for the moment.

The man shivered under Harry's glare, raising his empty hands. One of them was missing its pointer finger.

"Peter Pettigrew…" Harry said slowly, staring at Voldemort's servant.

"Wormtail, you fool…" a cold voice hissed from the bundle, which Wormtail had set down during the time Harry was stunned.

Harry was about to stun the traitor when something moved in the corner of his eye. He turned, expecting another wizard, but was greeted instead by the sight of a massive snake lunging for him. His tried to bring his wand around, but was not quite fast enough. The snake's weight bore Harry to the ground, causing stars to flash before his eyes for a moment as his he hit the back of his head against a loose stone. His wand slipped from his fingers, and before he could think to try and grab it, the snake started wrapping its coils tightly around him.

"_Let go!_" Harry cried, his words unconsciously coming out as Parseltongue's strangled hiss. The snake paused for a long moment.

"_You speak the tongue?_" the snake asked, sounding surprised, but not releasing him. Its dark eyes met Harry's. "_No matter, I shall not release you until my Master bids me to."_

'Help me, Justice!' Harry thought desperately as he tried to wriggle his way out of the snake's coils.

'There is nothing I can do…' Justice said quietly.

'Whaddya mean, _there's nothing you can do_?' Harry gasped, shoving desperately at the tight bands of snake flesh. The snake, likely Nagini, hissed in annoyance, baring her fangs in front of Harry's face as a warning. 'What about that pulse I used against the gryndilows, wouldn't that work?'

'It is… not that…' Justice said, sounding scared.

'You have to do something! I can't get away from this thing on my own!'

Justice's answer was interrupted by the crackle of a flame lighting. While Harry had been struggling with Nagini, Wormtail had gotten a massive cauldron from somewhere and had lit a fire underneath it. The bundle that held Voldemort was twitching.

"Hurry, you fool…" the dark lord hissed,

"I'm trying, Master," Wormtail whimpered.

"Then _try harder_!"

'Dammit Justice!' Harry thought. 'You have to do something!'

'The only way… but I must not…' Justice said.

'Must not what!' Harry felt like screaming. Whatever was in the cauldron was beginning to shoot of sparks as it heated up, throwing Wormtail's stressed, rat-like face into sharp relief.

'The only way… for me to act… is to fully possess your body…' Justice said.

'DO IT!' Harry pleaded. 'Voldemort's planning something and I don't want to stick around to see what it is!' As he thought this, Wormtail said something, and walked over to Voldemort, unwrapping the cloth and carrying a shadowy form to the cauldron. Just before he placed it inside, the light from the potion washed over the shape, showing a hideous, scaly, baby-like yet profoundly _wrong_ shape.

'I… must not…' Justice said, the fear in his voice becoming more evident. 'I cannot be trusted…'

'Better you than Voldemort!'

'Hundreds dead by my hand… thousands by my actions… Do not ask this of me…'

"_Bone of the father, unknowingly given_," Wormtail spoke up, pointing his wand at a nearby headstone, "_you will renew your son_!"

Harry watched in horror as a trickle of dust rose from the base of the grave, flying swiftly to the cauldron. The bright light coming from the potion within shifted to a sickly blue.

'Please, Justice! Don't do this!' Harry begged, watching Wormtail steel himself for something.

'The results… will be far worse…' Justice said miserably.

'We're going to _die_ if you don't do anything! Or at least I will, I suppose you'll just flit off to another body and forget me!'

"_Flesh… of the se-servant, willingly… sacrificed…"_ Wormtail whimpered, holding out his four-fingered hand and raising a long, sharp knife over his head. Harry desperately closed his eyes. "_You will… revive… your master…_"

'I would not survive the passage…' Justice said.

'Then do something!' Harry begged, wincing as Wormtail started screaming, he had obviously cut his hand off. A sickening splash followed, and the light brightened and turned red. 'What the hell is wrong with you!'

'There are things… worse than death… To lose yourself… is the ultimate death…' Justice said. 'I never want… to feel that again…'

Harry felt Nagini shift, exposing his left shoulder. Desperately, he tried to pull his arm out and grab his wand, but the coils were still too tight, and Harry soon felt a spike of pain at the crook of his arm as the dagger pierced him. He stared helplessly up at a crying Wormtail, silently pleading with him to stop. If the former Marauder was moved by the sight of one of his friend's sons suffering, he didn't show it. He simply held a vial under the wound, gathering some of the blood before lurching back to the cauldron.

"Justice… please…" Harry said.

"_Blood… of the enemy… forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe…_"

The potion turned a blinding white and started boiling, diamond sparks flying everywhere, scorching the grass where they touched. Wormtail slumped to the ground, moaning and clutching his severed wrist.

'I am sorry, Harry,' Justice said. 'I am not strong enough…'

Thick steam was now billowing from the cauldron, obscuring everything. For a long moment, Harry had the hope that the potion had failed, that something had gone wrong…

These hopes were dashed, however, as a shape slowly rose from the cauldron.

"Robe me," the high, cold voice of Voldemort said, causing the still wounded Wormtail to scrabbled to pick up the robes and pull them over his master's head.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

The smoke slowly fade, leaving Harry to stare helplessly at the bone-white face of the Dark Lord, his red eyes shining in the darkness. He turned to look at Harry, completely ignoring the still-crying Wormtail at his feet.

"_Release him, Nagini_," he said in amusement, pulling a wand out of his robes. As the massive snake unwrapped from around Harry, there was a moment when he might have been able to grab his own wand, but was too paralyzed by raw, uncontrollable fear to take it. By the time he thought to move, Voldemort had already grabbed him with magic and thrown him over to the grave Wormtail had drawn bone from, conjuring cords as he did so.

Turning away from Harry, Voldemort started studying his new body. He raised his hands to touch his face, running unnaturally long fingers over the place where his nose should have been.

"Master…" Wormtail choked out, raising his tearstained eyes to gaze pleadingly at Voldemort. It looked for a long moment like the dark wizard was going to simply ignore his wounded servant, but he finally turned his cold gaze on Wormtail. "You… promised."

Voldemort started laughing mirthlessly. "Hold out your arm, Wormtail."

"Oh, Master, thank you…" Wormtail said weakly, holding out the stump.

"The other arm, Wormtail," Voldemort said coldly.

"But… Master…"

Voldemort roughly grabbed Wormtail's left arm, pushing the sleeve back with a contemptuous flick. From his raised position, Harry could faintly see a vivid red skull with a snake for a tongue.

The Dark Mark.

"It is back," Voldemort said softly, ignoring Wormtail's continued sobs. "They must have noticed it… Now we shall see…" With those words, he pressed a single finger against the brand.

Wormtail screamed in pain again, and Harry felt a surge of energy emanate from the mark, which had turned black when Voldemort removed his finger.

"How many will be brave enough to return?" Voldemort whispered as he rose to his feet, looking at the sky pensively. "How many will be foolish enough to try and hide?" He glanced at Harry, a cold smirk spreading across his face. "You stand upon the grave of my father, Harry," he said, almost as if he were talking to an old friend. "A Muggle and a fool, he lived in that house, just at the top of the hill. He abandoned my mother once he learned what she was, he did not like magic." Voldemort's smile widened. "I had the very great pleasure of killing him, and see how useful he has proven himself, in death. Very much like your mother…"

Harry felt a surge of anger pass through him at the taunting, condescending tone of Voldemort's voice. "My mother was nothing like him," he growled before he could stop himself. Voldemort laughed again.

"So _bold_, Harry, I like that." He glanced at the sky again. "I'm afraid our little chat must wait, my… helpers… return."

Cracks started filling the graveyard as wizards appeared, all hooded and wearing the skull masks of the Death Eaters. They approached Voldemort slowly, clearly not wanting to be the first to catch his attention but not wanting to appear scared, though they were failing horribly at the latter.

Finally, one man fell to his knees, crawled to Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his robes. "Master…" he breathed as he retreated. Following his lead, the others copied his actions, slowly forming a circle.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said as the last one stood in his place. "Thirteen years, and yet you return as if it were yesterday…" He turned in a slow circle, studying each of the Death Eaters. "We remain united, then? Or… do I smell guilt, upon the air?" A shudder passed through the circle.

'Are you going to do anything now, Justice?' Harry asked as Voldemort paused, letting the fear build in his servants.

'… I cannot…'

Voldemort continued his monologue "Why did you not seek me out, Death Eaters? You all swore eternal loyalty, didn't you? You all knew that I took steps to conquer death, do you not? Why did none of you try to find me?" The fear in the air was almost palpable.

"Did you believe that I was destroyed? That my efforts had somehow failed? Did you think that the likes of Albus Dumbledore could banish me forever? I am disappointed, my friends, so very disappointed…"

Suddenly, one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees. "Please, Master, forgive us!" he wailed. Voldemort simply stared at him before raising his wand.

"_Crucio_!"

The man's screams split the air as if he were being stabbed by thousands of flaming knives. After about fifteen seconds, which must have felt like an eternity for the Death Eater, Voldemort raised his wand and the cries faded.

"Get up, Avery," Voldemort whispered. "Give me thirteen years of loyal, devoted service and I will consider forgiving you." He glanced down at Wormtail, who was still twitching. "Wormtail here has already repaid some of his debt, have you not? Though not out of any sense of loyalty, but fear. Fear of your old friends. You deserve that pain."

"Yes, Master," Wormtail moaned. "Please… you promised…"

"You almost ruined everything twice, Wormtail," Voldemort said coldly. "Both times, someone else had to cover up for your blunder. Why should I reward you for nearly allowing my plan to be ruined?"

"I… did… most things right…" Wormtail choked out.

"True, I suppose," Voldemort said lazily. "You did prove helpful, and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers." He waved his wand through the air, leaving a trail of silver light. After a long moment, the silver formed itself into a glowing hand that attached itself to Wormtail's hand.

"Master…" Wormtail gasped, his sobs tapering of as he gazed at the glowing hand. "It's beautiful… thank you, Master!" He swiftly scrambled forward and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"Do not fail me again, Wormtail," Voldemort said coldly. He watched Wormtail hurry to an empty place in the circle before slowly following. "Lucius, my slippery friend…"

'Justice? I hope you have a plan, because I don't,' Harry said as Voldemort started talking to his servants.

'I am trying, Harry,' Justice said, the panic in his voice having faded.

'What was wrong with you before? Normally you seem… calm and rational."

'Fear feedback,' Justice said. "Your fear affected me, causing my own worries to increase, which then fed back onto you." The spirit sighed. 'It didn't help that you were asking me to do something that had led to enormous trouble and suffering in the past.'

'Well, you have any thoughts?' Harry asked after a long moment.

'We need your wand to be able to fully access your power,' Justice said.

'And how do you propose we do that?' Harry asked sardonically. 'We can't use magic to get it without having it.'

'Not true,' Justice said. 'The wand is simply a focus, it does not create magic. You can still use your power without it, it will simply be more difficult. Focus.'

'So, what, should I just try to summon my wand?' Harry asked.

'It is the best idea I can come up with,' Justice said. "And Harry… I am sorry about before, for what it is worth."

'That's nice to know,' Harry said before taking a deep breath. "_Accio_!" he whispered, concentrating with all his might on his wand.

For a few nerve wracking seconds, it seemed like nothing would happen. Then, slowly but surely, the holly wand started sliding towards the grave.

"…and here," Voldemort continued, gazing at a large gap, "we have six missing Death Eaters. Three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return… he will be punished. One I believe has left me forever, he will be killed. And the last… the last remains my most faithful servant, and has already reentered my service at Hogwarts. It is through his tireless efforts that our young friend has joined us tonight."

'Crap,' Harry though, taking his eyes of his wand to look at Voldemort, who was sweeping over to him.

"Yes, Harry Potter was kind enough to attend my rebirth," Voldemort called out. "One might go so far as to call him… the guest of honor."

"Master?" Lucius Malfoy said, stepping forward slightly. Voldemort nodded for him to continue. "We beg you to tell us how you achieved this… this miracle, and returned to us."

"That is quite the story, my friends," Voldemort said. "A story that begins, and ends, with young Harry Potter here." Voldemort slowly started circling the grave Harry was tied to, his eyes on the Death Eaters.

"They have called this boy my downfall," Voldemort started quietly. "As you all know, he is the one person I could not kill, though it was not through any special power of his own. In fact, that honor actually goes to his mother. She gave her life for him, unwittingly giving her son a powerful defense that I did not anticipate. It was ancient magic, bound in blood. Thanks to steps I took today, this shield has finally been negated."

Harry watched helplessly as Voldemort slowly pressed a finger against his scar, causing the pain to reach new a new peak. Unable to stop himself, Harry screamed in pain.

"But at the time, the woman's sacrifice made me unable to harm the boy," Voldemort continued, resuming his pacing. "My curse was reflected back upon me, driving me from my body. However, as you also know, I have taken many efforts to avoid the indignity of death. One or more of these experiments must have paid off, since I was alive. I may have been weak, less than the meanest ghost, but I was alive."

Harry blinked, forcing himself to concentrate. Hoping that Voldemort was too busy gloating to notice anything else, he repeated his Summoning Charm and continued pulling his wand towards him.

"It took almost all of my energy to simply continue existing, my friends," Voldemort went on dramatically. "I retreated to a faraway place, waiting for one of my loyal Death Eaters to find me, as I knew they could." His voice turned cold. "But I waited in vain, didn't I?" The Death Eaters trembled slightly at this reminder.

'Almost… there…' Harry though, keeping his eyes fixed on his wand as it slid, inch-by-inch, towards the grave.

"The only power remaining to me was to possess bodies, but this was of little use, since the only creatures in the forest were ill suited for magic, and my entrance into their bodies severely shortened their lifespan. And then, four years ago, it seemed all my dreams were going to come true, for a wizard stumbled across me. A weak and foolish man, certainly, but a teacher at Dumbledore's school, and thus trusted by many. I sought out one of the objects that would have brought me back. However, I was unable to secure the stone, thwarted by Harry Potter…"

Harry had to stop the wand's motion ever time Voldemort might see it, slowing his progress significantly. Fortunately, it seemed the Death Eaters were too focused on their master's story to notice the dark piece of wood sliding through the shadowy grass.

"The servant died as I left his body, leaving me as weak as I ever was. I returned to my forest, fearing that I might never regain my power, since it seemed my Death Eaters did not care what had become of me." Voldemort smiled grimly.

"Then, then things started going right. Wormtail here was driven out of hiding by those he once counted as friends, and in desperation sought me out. He quickly found me once he bothered to look." His eyes met Wormtail's for a long moment before he continued.

"But the trip back was not smooth, was it? For reasons best known to himself, Wormtail risked everything by stopping at an inn just outside the forest I had long been rumored to be inhabiting. And who did he meet there but Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic." Voldemort's voice softened. "Fortunately, fate favored me that night, and Wormtail showed prowess I would have never thought him capable of. He was able to capture Bertha rather than the other way around, and he brought her to me, and with some… persuasion… she became a venerable mine of information."

"She told me of the Triwizard Tournament, she told me of a faithful Death Eater who was imprisoned but in a position to be rescued. With this information, I set about my plan after disposing of her."

"I had long know of the Dark potion that I used to bring myself back tonight, but it was only after Wormtail arrived that I was in a position to use it. With some work and a lot of guidance from myself, Wormtail was able to create a rudimentary body for me to use while we set about preparing for my true rebirth. I needed three powerful ingredients for the potion, two of which were easy to acquire: flesh of the servant and bone of the father. The third, however, was blood of the enemy. Wormtail shortsightedly suggested that I simply use the nearest person who had opposed me, and there were many. However, I knew that the only one whose blood was worth using was Harry Potter, so that I might have the protection his mother had granted him. Only then could I rise even greater than when I had fallen."

"But Harry Potter was not easily captured. When he is with his blood relatives, I cannot touch him, not even now. There were too may Ministry wizards around during the Quidditch World Cup, so I could not strike then. And not even at my full strength could I assault Hogwarts directly. So how would I get to Harry Potter?" Voldemort smirked at the confused looks his Death Eaters were throwing him. "I used Bertha Jorkin's information. I placed the single loyal Death Eater at Hogwarts, who then worked to ensure that Harry Potter won the Triwizard Tournament. And here he is."

Harry's wand had reached the base of the grave as Voldemort dramatically turned to stand in front of Harry, raising his wand.

_ "Crucio!"_

Harry's concentration was shattered as indescribably pain rushed through his body. Even as he screamed, he knew that they did nothing to convey the true depths of just how much the Torture Curse _hurt_. Any lingering doubts that the use of this spell warranted life in Azkaban faded from Harry's mind. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to die, just so that the pain would stop. Finally, Voldemort lowered his wand, laughing.

"Harry Potter only ever escaped me due to lucky chance and other's protection. He was never a true match for me, despite what the fools who oppose us believe," Voldemort said. "I will prove this by killing him, here and now, right in front of you all, so that you all might know that I am the greatest of wizards." Voldemort smiled. "He will be given a chance to fight, as is fair. If he has the strength to oppose me, let him show it." Voldemort flicked his wrist, cutting Harry's bonds with contemptuous ease. He then turned to look for Harry's wand.

"_STUPEFY_!" Harry roared the first spell he thought of as he grabbed the wand lying at his feet and pointed it at Voldemort.

"Tut tut, Harry," Voldemort said as he batted the jet of red light aside with his hand. "It is not sporting to attack when you're opponent's back is turned." His evil smile widened. "Though I must say I am impressed that you were able to get your wand back without my noticing. Bravo."

The Death Eaters were closing ranks, forming a unified circle around Harry and Voldemort.

"Now, Harry, let us do this properly," Voldemort said, bowing slightly. "The niceties must be observed. Bow to Death, Harry."

"Fuck you, you nose-less bastard," Harry snarled, his anger starting to rise. This was all just a game to Voldemort. He took _pleasure_ in causing suffering! But he, Harry, wasn't going to meekly play along.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort said over the raucous laughter of the Death Eaters. "Such vulgar language? Wherever did you learn words like that?" His cat-like eyes narrowed. "I. Said. Bow."

As Voldemort jerked his wand at Harry, the young wizard felt a pressure start to bend his spine.

"_Finite Incantatem_!" Harry hissed, causing the spell to break. "I. Said. No." he shot back mockingly. The Death Eater's laughter faded.

"Impressive, Harry," Voldemort said, bowing again, a bit more deeply this time. "Perhaps there is something to you after all. In honor of your display of courage and strength… I'll make this quick."

"_Accio!_" Harry shouted again, pointing his wand over Voldemort's shoulder. One of the Death Eaters, not expecting any spells to be aimed at him, was jerked off his feet and flew at Voldemort's back.

The dark wizard simply Disapparated, causing Harry to have to jump out of the way of the flying Death Eater.

'Behind you,' Justice said as Harry rolled to his feet. Without question, Harry spun to see Voldemort tossing the Death Eater aside.

"Yes, Harry!" Voldemort laughed. "Very well done!" He pointed his wand at Harry's face. "So, do you have any other tricks up your sleeve? I'm interested. Come, Harry, _hit me with your best shot_!"

'Fire,' Justice said simply. 'Use fire as a distraction, then something else.'

"Okay," Harry whispered, thinking. "_Incendio_!"

Concentrating with all his might, Harry launched a wave of fire at Voldemort, before following it up with _Diffindo_.

Voldemort effortlessly dispelled the fire, then parried the Cutting Curse with equal ease.

"Is that all, Harry?" he asked, shaking his head, pretending to look sad. "I'm disappointed in you, I though you would come up with something interesting. Very well, let us end this little game." He Disapparated again.

'On the right!'

Harry spun, shouting "_Stupefy_!" at the same moment Voldemort reappeared, already screaming "_Avada Kedavra_!"

The red light from Harry's wand met the green light from Voldemort's, and a deep boom echoed throughout the graveyard. Harry's wand started vibrating violently as a thin beam of light, a brilliant, comforting gold beam. Harry looked at Voldemort, who was also gripping his wand desperately. Their eyes met, and Harry realized that Voldemort had no more clue what was going on than he did, which was comforting.

Suddenly, from the center of the connecting thread, another beam of gold light stabbed the sky, splintering into dozens, hundreds of threads, curving gracefully back to earth and forming a cage around the pair, locking the Death Eaters out. Their cries of confusion became muffled as another sound rose, a gentle, soothing song that filled Harry with hope and confidence: a phoenix song.

"Do nothing!" Voldemort was screaming, wrenching his wand around to try and break the thread. Harry steeled himself, willing the light to remain. So long as he had some defense, he wasn't going to relinquish it.

At the center of the beam, where the cage began, a single bead of light hovered. After a moment, it started sliding towards Harry, causing his already violently shaking wand to vibrate harder and start heating up. Somehow, Harry knew bad things would happen if that bead of light touched his wand.

'Then will it back, Harry,' Justice said, sounding stronger than ever. 'That's all magic is, you using the power that lives in you in accordance with your will. And you have such a strong will…'

"Thank you, Justice," Harry whispered back, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he focused on the bead to a degree that made his efforts to retrieve his wand seem like a fleeting whim.

Slowly, the mote of light shivered to a stop; then it reversed just as slowly. As it slid down the thread towards Voldemort's wand, it started picking up speed, causing the dark lord's wand to shiver.

'Maybe his wand will blow up?' Harry though eagerly as he continued forcing the bead back towards his enemy, who was starting to look truly scared.

Finally, the light was hovering mere centimeters from the end of Voldemort's wand, which looked like it was about to break in half, it was vibrating so hard. Harry took a deep breath as he continued to try to push the bead with his will. After a long moment, it finally took the final step, connecting with the tip.

Instantly, screams split the air, screams Harry recognized as his own. A smoky hand appeared for a moment before the screams resumed, this time the Death Eater Voldemort had tortured. The screams went on and on before suddenly stopping. Slowly, dense smoke started crawling from the end of Voldemort's wand. Slowly, inch by inch, the form of an old man forced its way from the wand, until it was finally free. The man straightened up, looking around curiously.

"He was a true wizard, was he?" the man said in a distant, echoy voice. "You, boy, fight him, won't you?"

"I will," Harry promised, and the man nodded before starting to circle just inside the cage.

More screams echoed from the wand, making Harry wonder just how many people Voldemort had tortured since he had gotten his wand back when they stopped again. Another figure started crawling out of the end of the wand, this time a woman. As she straightened up, Harry recognized her as an older version of the Bertha Jorkins he had seen come out of Dumbledore's Pensive.

"Don't let him get you, Harry!" she called in the same echoy voice as the old man. "Please, be careful!"

There was a long moment of silence from Voldemort's wand, probably representing the decade or so that it had remained unused. Finally, another head started blossoming from the end, long hair obscuring the woman's face. Still, Harry knew exactly who it was.

Lily Potter rose to her feet and moved swiftly to Harry's side. "You're father's coming, Harry," she whispered tenderly. "He wants to talk to you. Please, stay strong."

"…I will, Mum…" Harry choked out. Though he had seen her reflection in the Mirror of Erised and heard her voice when the dementors approached, this was the first time he had truly connected the two. It took all his self-control to not try to touch her, even though he knew the smoke wouldn't be solid.

His eyes were drawn back to Voldemort's wand as one last shape emerged from it. James Potter's messy hair, so like Harry's, was brushed aside as the ghostly presence glided over to stand with his wife and son.

"Harry," he said quietly, "the Cup is still a Portkey, it will take you away from here. Once the connection is broken, run to it. We will keep Voldemort busy. Do you understand."

"I do, Dad," Harry said, nodding. His parents smiled at him.

"Oh, Harry, we're so proud of you. You've grown so much," Lily Potter said gently, running a hand along Harry's face. Despite the fact that it was incorporeal, Harry somehow still felt its warmth. The phoenix song surged.

"Justice, take care of our son, won't you?" James Potter said quietly, staring into Harry's eyes.

'…Tell him I say that I will do my best,' Justice said. James chuckled.

"I can hear you. We're beings of magic, too."

"Mum, Dad… thank you," Harry said.

"We love you, Harry. Now go! Hurry!"

"NOW!" Harry roared, giving the wand a jerk. The thread snapped, and the cage and song faded. The smoky figures remained, however, and darted between Harry and Voldemort, forming an almost solid wall.

Harry ran like he had never run in his life, knocking a stunned Death Eater out of the way with a quick Knockback Jinx. He vaulted over a grave, feeling the air move as poorly aimed curses flew all around him.

"STUN HIM, YOU FOOLS!" Voldemort screamed.

"_PROTEGO_!" Harry shouted, spinning his wand over his shoulder to deflect a pair of spells that came too close. Jumping over another headstone, Harry dove for the Cup, coming up just short.

"_AVADA…_" Voldemort started.

"_ACCIO!_" Harry screamed, pointing his wand at the Cup, which flew obediently to his hand. He felt a familiar jerk behind his navel as the world became a jumble of wind and colors.

He was safe, and he was going home.

AN: One of the major points of contention for this story has been who, if anyone, Harry will be paired with. Because I've been flip-flopping in my head ever since it became an issue, I have decided to become a democracy and put it to a straight vote. There are going to be three choices, any others will be disregarded.

Ginny Weasley: I hesitated to even put Ginny here, since you all seem to hate her. Still, I personally like her, and she would fit well with several scenes Harry and his significant other would have. She's been possessed, though the circumstances were different, giving her a sense of connection. She's also the girl Harry probably knows best other than Hermione, who is not an option in this story. Even if he didn't notice her as a potential love interest immediately due to immaturity and other concerns, he still knew her. She's also (in Book 5) shown herself willing to stand up to Harry when he needs it (His sulking after thinking he was possessed by Voldemort at Christmas). Thus, I see her as a strong contender even if no one else does.

Luna Lovegood: Luna's an interesting choice. She would also work well with Harry; her open and accepting nature would probably set Harry and Justice at ease. She would also be the most likely to truly recognize Justice as his own person rather than an extension of Harry himself. Her flaw, however, is the same as her strength: her odd nature. As JKR said when talking about Luna/Neville, she does kind of weird people out. That's a fairly minor flaw, however, and one that's easily brushed aside.

Daphne Greengrass (or other Slytherin girl): If anyone's been reading since Chapter 6: Blazing and Ball, you may remember I said that, unless I had a brainwave, the only real options were Luna and Ginny. Well, I'm sure some of you will be happy to know I've had that brainwave. I won't go into detail here, but it would put Harry in a position where he could make some Slytherin friends, and even a girlfriend. NOTE!: This does not mean that he will abandon Ron and Hermione, he will simply expand his horizons.

NOTE: In the interest of both saving energy and keeping this from descending into a flame fest, I am setting a standard for how the vote goes:

_Name of Girl_

_Strong, constructive reason (IE, something good about that girl, not "Oh, Ginny/Luna_ _sucks, Slytherins are the only smart ones!") _

Please keep this friendly and don't make me regret my openness.


	11. Reflection of Wrath

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Reviewer Responses have been moved to the bottom of the chapter.

Chapter 10: Reflection of Wrath

Harry fell slowly to his knees, panting. Everything that had happened tonight from the Task to the graveyard, was beginning to catch up with him. Glancing down at the innocently glittering cup, Harry was overcome with a wave of nausea, causing him to throw the object as far away as he could.

"Potter!"

Harry looked up, his eyes slightly bleary. Stomping towards him was Professor Moody. The ex-Auror looked worried, his magical eye spinning so fast that Harry was surprised he could still walk straight.

"Professor…" Harry choked out as he tried to push himself to his feet. To his surprise, he realized that his arms were shaking so badly that he could barely prevent himself from toppling onto his side.

"Come on Potter, get up!" Moody growled, reaching for Harry's shoulder. "We have to move now, you're too exposed here!"

"Professor… Voldemort's back," Harry groaned as Moody pulled him roughly to his feet.

"The Dark Lord has returned?" Moody asked, his eyes bulging slightly. Harry simply nodded weakly. "Then the situation has become even more urgent, let's go."

"I have to see Dumbledore. I gotta tell Dumbledore," Harry said.

"I know, Potter, and I'm going to take you to him!" Moody growled, pulling out his wand and rapping Harry on the head hard enough to make him flinch, especially as an intense chill started leaking down his body. "Disillusionment Charm. It'll hide you from any prying eyes." Moody started pulling Harry towards the edge of the empty Quidditch field. "We don't know exactly who sent you away, so stick close to me and don't make any noise until we reach Dumbledore."

"Okay…" Harry said. He still felt so tired.

'The adrenaline is fading, so you feel more tired,' Justice whispered. 'Don't worry, you're still strong enough to move, and the tiredness will fade with time.'

'I know,' Harry said back, blinking as he followed Moody across the darkened grounds and up towards the castle. "Professor, where is everybody?"

"The students were sent back to their dorms when we realized you were gone," Moody growled, probably still looking around with his magical eye. "The other professors are around, but for the moment, Dumbledore's the only one we need to see. Stay quiet."

Harry obediently shut up; Moody had been an Auror, he had experience with this sort of situation. The pair walked quickly up the main stairs, Moody still lending Harry some support.

As they stepped through the door, Moody pushed Harry behind him, hissing again for the young wizard to remain silent. A second later, Ludo Bagman dashed down the central stairs towards them.

"Moody, old man, have you found him yet?" he asked desperately, his gaze passing right through Harry's head, which was peeking over Moody's shoulder.

"No, not yet," Moody growled. "Head out onto the grounds, Fudge wants to talk to you."

"Of course, of course," Bagman said distractedly, rubbing his hands nervously. "Oh, where could Harry have gotten off to?" he muttered as he passed, pushing open the main doors and leaving.

"Professor–" Harry said.

"The only person we know with absolute certainty we can trust is Albus Dumbledore," Moody growled as he started pulling Harry upstairs again. "Therefore, he's the only person we're going to talk to. Come on!"

'Why would Professor Dumbledore be in here?' Justice asked as Moody led Harry onwards. 'Is the search not happening outside?'

'Who knows?' Harry responded. True to Justice's prediction, Harry's strength was coming back; he no longer had to hold onto Moody's shoulder to remain upright.

"In here, Potter," Moody growled, shoving the door of his office open. Harry paused.

"I thought we were going to Professor Dumbledore," he said slowly. Something didn't seem right…

"We have to stop off here," Moody said, reaching out and hitting Harry on the head with his wand again, probably lifting the Disillusionment Charm. "Get in."

"Okay," Harry said, walking past Moody into the office. The Dark Detectors were still scattered around the room, but in the darkness they seemed… sinister, rather than comforting.

Harry spun around as the door snapped shut behind him. Moody waved his wand, lighting the candles scattered around the room.

He didn't put it away afterwards.

"Professor?" Harry asked warily.

"Sit down, Potter," Moody said, gesturing to the chair behind Harry.

"Where's Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, staying on his feet. Something was terribly wrong…

"Sit. Down." Moody growled, jerking his wand at Harry. Unprepared, Harry was knocked back into the chair. "We're going to have a little talk."

"I have to see Professor Dumbledore _now_!" Harry hissed, trying to get up again. Moody simply pointed his wand at Harry's face.

"No, you don't," he said, his lopsided face splitting into a hideous smile.

'No…' Justice whispered.

"So, Potter, the Dark Lord has risen again, has he?" Moody said, his smile widening. "You're certain."

"Yes…" Harry whispered, blinking. It was almost as if… but Justice was right, that was impossible…

"And the Death Eaters, they returned?" Moody asked. "Did he forgive them? Did the Dark Lord hurt them? Please say he did."

"_The last remains my most faithful servant, and has already reentered my service at Hogwarts…"_ Voldemort's cold, evil voice drifted through Harry's memory.

"You… you're the Death Eater…" Harry said, his mind locking up in shock. This was ridiculous. Moody had been an _Auror_, for Merlin's sake. He was Dumbledore's friend… how could he be a Death Eater.

"So the Dark Lord mentioned me?" Moody said proudly. "Did he tell them that I was the most faithful, the one who had given him what he most needed?" Harry nodded mutely, his mind still trying to catch up. "That pleases me so much, Harry. I'm glad you told me that. I worked hard to ensure that you went to my Master's arms, it's nice to get some recognition for that." His insane smile widened even more, so it looked like his face was about to split in half. "But you never answered my question, Harry. Did my Master hurt those faithless fools who ran when I fired the Dark Mark over the forest at the World Cup?"

"That was you…" Harry whispered. Something was beginning to bubble up inside him, pushing slowly through the shock and confusion.

"Yes, that was I," Moody growled. "I saw them, the cowards who had abandoned the Dark Lord. I hate them, Death Eaters who renounced their oath the second the Dark Lord needed their loyalty the most. Had I not been imprisoned, I would have sought him out years ago…"

"Everything…" Harry said, his anger rising. "Everything that has happened this year… "

"Was because of me, yes," Moody said. "It was I who put you're name into the Goblet under a fourth school. It was I who pushed Hagrid to show you the dragons, you would have been incinerated if I hadn't, and my Master needed you alive."

"You…" Harry blinked. Justice was starting to growl in the back of his mind as their anger rose.

"It was I who told Diggory how to solve the egg clue, knowing he would want to pay you back for telling him about the dragon. I also placed the book that told Longbottom about gillyweed, though you worried me when you didn't ask everyone. Still, the information got to you in the end." Moody glowered at Harry, his smile fading into a scowl.. "Your stupidity still almost managed to ruin everything, but that fool Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility and gave you a high score. It then aided you in the maze, stunning Delacour and putting the Imperius Curse on Krum. You almost messed it up again when you saved Diggory from my thrall, but you're power and head start managed to pay off in the end, leading you to my Master."

"Mr. Crouch…"

"I killed him. It's a shame that you were there to witness it, but I was able to deflect suspicion from myself." Moody grinned again. "I quite enjoyed that little excursion." He shook his head. "But you'll learn more once you reach the afterlife and ask him about it."

"Everything…" Harry's voice shook with barely surpassed fury. "You are responsible for everything." Justice's voice rose in rage, their anger blazing like an inferno.

"Everything," Moody said, his insane smile still in place. "After I've killed you, preventing the Dark Lord's plans from becoming common knowledge, he will reward me." Moody barked in laughter. "We are actually quite similar, the Dark Lord and I. Our fathers were disappointments… but we surpassed them, killed them, so that the Dark Order may rise! And now, I will kill you too."

"It was you!" Harry and Justice screamed, their eyes blazing blue.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore looked around the grounds again, running his hand through his hair in frustration.<p>

"So there's no sign of him?" he asked Minerva, who was standing nearby.

"Not in my area of the Forest," she said worriedly. "I don't know about…"

"I've completed my search," Severus said as he swept up to the pair. "And Potter is nowhere to be found."

"My Aurors are beginning to report in," Cornelius said, twirling his bowler hat nervously in his fingers. "Nothing in Hogsmeade, but the group that went to his relative's home hasn't returned yet."

"Where's Alastor?" Dumbledore asked, glancing around. "He should be back by now."

"Maybe he found something!" Minerva said eagerly. Dumbledore shook his head, Alastor would have sent a Patronus if that were the case.

"Let's check on Filus," he said finally. "Perhaps Harry has returned where he should have."

The quartet set off towards the Quidditch field. Dumbledore saw someone heading up the stairs into the castle, but the person was much too large to be the slim Harry, so Dumbledore dismissed whoever it was for the moment, he had more important things to worry about.

The second Minerva had brought Mr. Diggory out of the maze and told him that Harry was missing, he had known something had gone terribly wrong. Immediately sending the students back to their dorms (The Beauxbatons students had followed the Ravenclaws and the Durmstrang students had gone with Slytherin. The grounds needed to be completely clear,) Dumbledore had gathered the professors and assigned them search areas. Madame Maxime had volunteered to help, though Karkaroff was nowhere to be found, something that worried Dumbledore greatly.

For the life of him, Dumbledore couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. He had been very careful in disabling the wards that prevented Portkey travel, he had enchanted the Cup himself… and yet something had gone wrong, sending Harry somewhere other than where he was supposed to be. Dumbledore knew he was not infallible by any stretch of the imagination, but he had believed he was at least _competent_!

And there was Voldemort to worry about. Had this been his plan all along? Dumbledore had believed that he wanted Harry dead, but captured…

His musings were cut off as he stepped out of the tunnel leading into the pitch and saw a twinkling light.

'_Accio Cup_!' he thought, raising his hand. Obediently, the Triwizard Cup soared to his hand.

"He must be back!" Minerva said eagerly. "Filus must have taken him up to the Hospital Wing…" She blinked.

"He would have sent word," Dumbledore said, his eyes hard. Closing his eyes Dumbledore reached out with his Legilimency, scanning the surrounding area for any clusters of thought. After a moment, he found a mind that "felt" a lot like Filus'. Turning he walked quickly to the edge of the stadium, lifting the reddish tarp. Laying there, clearly Stunned, was Filus.

"_Ennervate._" Dumbledore breathed, pointing his wand at Filus, who stirred. Blinking, the half-goblin Charms master stood.

"Dumbledore?" he asked. "What happened?"

"I was rather hoping you could tell me, Filus," Dumbledore said, holding the tarp up so Filus could step out onto the pitch.

"Can't really say," Filus said, rubbing the back of his head. "I stayed here, waiting for Harry. After a few minutes, someone suddenly Stunned me from behind." He bowed his head. "I should have been more alert, I'm sorry."

"This is madness!" Cornelius blustered. "Who would do this?"

"The same person who sent Harry away from us," Dumbledore said grimly. 'But who is that?' he thought. 'Who's betrayed us?'

"Minister!" Ludo shouted as he sprinted onto the pitch. "Moody said you wanted to talk to me?"

"He did?" Cornelius asked, confused. "I haven't seen him since…"

"Where is he?" Dumbledore asked, a chill sweeping through him. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't been the last to touch the Cup; Alastor had carried it into the maze. But the implications of that… that was impossible.

"Up at the castle," Ludo said, sounding confused. "I thought you would have sent him up there."

Dumbledore shook his head, fear coursing through him. The figure had certainly been large enough to be Alastor…

"Was Harry with him?" Minerva asked desperately.

"I didn't see Harry, is he back?" Ludo asked, confused. Dumbledore simply raised the Cup, his thoughts racing.

"We have to go now!" he called, rushing towards the castle. If Alastor was behind all this, he must have Stunned Filus, so that he could grab Harry when he returned. That meant that there was something that he didn't want Harry telling them about.

Which meant that Harry was in grave danger.

Dumbledore sprinted as fast as he could. Though old, Dumbledore's magic was able to overcome most of the frailties of age, though not all.

"Now, Dumbledore, see here!" Cornelius shouted, trying to keep up. "Ludo just said that he didn't see Harry with Moody–"

"There are ways to hide people, and Alastor knows all of them," Dumbledore said grimly. 'Or whoever is impersonating him.' Dumbledore couldn't believe that his friend would do anything like this, so someone else must have captured him… He had noticed that Alastor had changed since he had come to Hogwarts, but had chalked it up to retirement not agreeing with him.

If Harry died because of his foolishness…

"Dumbledore!" Dilys shouted from a painting. "Moody found Harry! I heard them talking and saw them going into his office!"

Dumbledore's worst fears were confirmed. "How long?" he asked as he kept running.

"Five, six minutes ago?" Dilys said, jogging through paintings to keep up. "What's wrong?"

Dumbledore didn't have time to answer as a feral scream split the air. A feral scream that sounded an awful lot like Harry.

"What's going on?" Minerva gasped as Dumbledore kept running.

'Don't be too late, don't be too late…' Dumbledore thought desperately, still running with all his might. Bangs and crashes started echoing from the direction of Alastor's office, indicating that, whatever else was going on, Harry was still fighting.

But Harry was just a boy. An exceptional boy, to be sure, but a boy nonetheless. He was facing someone able to defeat and capture one of the most talented Aurors the Ministry had ever had. He might be able to hold out for a while, but if Dumbledore didn't hurry, he would likely die. 'Just one more corridor!' he thought as he led the way around the corner.

They were halfway to the door when it splintered, expelling a large shape to smash against the opposite wall with a pained grunt.

"Moody?" Cornelius gasped.

The ex-Auror stood, growling as he pointed his wand back into the office. A blast of blue light emanated from the shattered entrance, tossing him viciously back against the wall. Dumbledore couldn't help but wince slightly as he heard bones shatter.

Harry stepped out a moment later, looking like something out of a nightmare. His robes were whipping around as if a gale was blowing through the corridor, and blue fire burned its way along his body. Even from his angle Dumbledore could see that the boy's eyes were glowing like a pair of miniature suns. What was even more worrying was the black mist rising from his body, giving him an almost demonic look. His wand was out and pointed at the twitching man.

Whoever was wearing Moody's body tried once more to attack Harry, raising his wand with a snarl. Harry was faster, however, and a line of blue light emanated from his wand and took the man's hand off at the wrist, prompting a howl of pain.

"**IT WAS YOU!"** Harry roared, and everyone flinched at his voice. Gone was the gentle, soft-spoken tone the boy usually took, and in its place was a brutal, vicious scream that spoke of chaos and death. Harry raised his wand again. "**YOU WILL DIE FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!" **Dumbledore knew that Harry was completely serious.

"Harry! Stop!" Dumbledore called, causing the young wizard's head to snap towards him, pinning him with that hate-filled gaze. "Put the wand down, he's no longer a threat."

**"IT WAS HIM. EVERYTHING IS HIS FAULT,"** the demonic voice spoke again. **"SHOULD HE ESCAPE JUSTICE FOR HIS CRIMES?"**

"First, we have to find out why he did these things, Harry," Dumbledore said, speaking over the stuttering of Cornelius, who sounded like he was about to faint. Dumbledore slowly walked forward, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Harry, you're safe now. You don't have to fight anymore."

As he approached, Harry's wand slowly drifted towards him, almost as if he were worried that Dumbledore would hurt him if he got to close.

**"I WILL NOT LET HIM WALK AWAY FROM THIS."** Harry said coldly.

"This isn't right, Harry," Dumbledore said soothingly. "I assure you, he won't be escaping, but it is not your place to punish him. You defended yourself, now let us take it from here." The boy didn't move. "Please… trust me."

A long, tense moment passed before the holly wand slowly slipped from Harry's fingers and fell to the floor with a clatter. The glow and mist faded, leaving Harry looking even smaller than normal. His eyes welled up with tears, and he toppled to his knees.

"He's back, Professor," Harry whispered, his voice once again his own, though it was shaking enough to break Dumbledore's heart. "Voldemort's back, and Moody brought him back."

Even though he had suspected this, the words tore through Dumbledore. He had always known that Tom would return one day, but he had hoped for more time before that terrible event. "This is not Alastor Moody, Harry," he said gently. "Alastor Moody would never have done the things this man has done." 'But who is he?' Dumbledore thought as he turned to look down at the man, pointing his wand at the bleeding wrist to heal it enough that the man wouldn't die of blood loss. 'Obviously a Death Eater, but who?'

"Severus," he said, turning to the Potions Master, who had been hanging back with a blank expression on his face. "Go and retrieve some of the strongest Truth Potion you possess." Dumbledore then remembered Sirius. "Minerva, go to Hagrid's hut, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take him to my office and tell him I will be with him shortly." Both professors nodded and immediately set about carrying out his orders.

"Now see here, Dumbledore," Cornelius said, his voice shaking. "You can't just go..."

"You are welcome to stay for the questioning, if you wish, Cornelius," Dumbledore said.

"I… I'll be right back," the Minister said nervously, his eyes flicking from Harry, still quietly weeping on the floor, to the disabled man laying nearby, trying to reach for his wand. Dumbledore stunned him with a flick of his own wand. "Don't… don't start without me…" With that, Cornelius trotted off.

"Harry," Dumbledore said gently, reaching down and patting the boy on the shoulder. "Harry, are you hurt?"

"…No…" Harry choked out. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry," Dumbledore said, crouching down to pull the boy's face up so that he could look him in the eye. "You defended yourself, as was your right and duty. It's like the Horntail… at that moment, there was no compromise. Had you not done what you did, he would have killed you."

Harry's watery green orbs blinked miserably, and for a moment, Dumbledore thought he saw something else in there, but it passed.

Dumbledore pulled the boy gently to his feet, intending to find him someplace to sit in the office. He came up short, however, when he saw just how ruined it was, everything seemed to be either broken or tossed around. Shaking his head, Dumbledore conjured an armchair and gently settled Harry down in it. With another wave of his wand, he cleared a space in the center of the room and pulled the imposter in.

From that, he remembered that Moody had to be around here somewhere. Polyjuice potion only worked on matter recently removed from the living victim, so Moody had to still be alive.

His eyes fell on the Trunk of Seven Interiors. He had given Moody that as a gift years ago.

'_Accio, keys_,' he thought, catching the key ring as it flew from the imposter's coat. He swiftly walked over to the chest and started opening it. The first six interiors were completely normal, but when he opened the seventh, he found himself staring down into a pit, with the real Alastor Moody lying at the bottom. The poor man looked like hell, his hair was torn out in clumps, he looked battered and his face was very pale. Glancing at Harry, who was watching him, looking confused, Dumbledore jumped down to check on his friend. Summoning a cloak, he gently wrapped in around Alastor after placing a simple warming charm on it.

"Professor…" Harry said weakly as Dumbledore climbed out of the trunk. "Is he…"

"Alastor's alive, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "He'll need to go to Madam Pomfrey, certainly, but he will recover." 'Will you?' he thought as he studied the boy. He had never seen anything like what Harry had done, and he prayed that, whatever it was, it hadn't hurt Harry too much.

Dumbledore then turned his gaze to the imposter, waiting. "He's been taking Polyjuice Potion, but in the excitement of tonight, he might have forgotten, on the hour, every hour."

Ten minutes passed in silence as both Dumbledore and Harry stared at the Stunned form of the fake Alastor on the floor.

Finally, the man's body started to shift. His face bubbling like hot wax, it started to smooth out, the countless scars Alastor had acquired over his long career fading. With a pop, the magical eye that Alastor had made himself was expelled from the man's head as a new one grew in its place and the wooden leg soon followed. Alastor's dark hair suddenly became straw-like, and his thick body slimmed considerably.

"Merlin's beard!" Minerva whispered, gripping the door frame. "Barty Crouch Jr.!"

"But… he's dead…" Harry whispered, gaping at the Death Eater lying on the ground.

"Apparently not," Dumbledore said slowly. "Severus, have you got the potion."

"I do, Headmaster," Severus said silkily, striding forward to drip three drops of Veritaserum into Crouch Jr.'s mouth.

Dumbledore gave the potion a moment to begin working before raising his wand and lifting the Stun on the captured Death Eater, who blinked. For a moment, he looked like he was about to start yelling and cursing, before suddenly going still; the Veritaserum was working.

"Do you know who I am?" Dumbledore asked coldly.

"Albus Dumbledore," Crouch said in a flat monotone.

'Well, we better start at the beginning,' Dumbledore thought grimly. "How is it you escaped from Azkaban?"

The amazing thing about Veritaserum, what set it above similar potions, was that it not only forced the recipient to tell the truth, but it also forced them to answer the question. Crouch Jr. took a deep breath and started his story.

"It was my mother who saved me," he spoke in the same flat monotone as before. "She was dying, and convinced my father to save me as a last favor to her. He loved my mother as he never loved me." Another breath. "Since my father was a Ministry official, he was allowed visitation rights. While there, I was given a vial of Polyjuice Potion with one of my mother's hairs, and she drank one with my hairs. We took each other's places. The dementors are blind, they sensed one healthy, one dying person enter, they sensed one healthy, one dying person leave."

"And then what happened?" Dumbledore asked.

"My father staged my mother's funeral, and I was nursed back to health by the family house elf. As I grew stronger, I had to be hidden and controlled. My father used the Imperius Curse on me–" Dumbledore heard Harry gasp, but couldn't bring himself to look at the boy. "-forcing me to wear an Invisibility Cloak at all times. The elf was my constant caretaker and watcher, and she took pity on me. She was able to convince my father on occasion to give me treats, rewards for good behavior."

"Did anyone suspect you were still alive?" Dumbledore asked. 'Was there any way I could have prevented this, if I had just spoken to the right person?'

"Bertha Jorkins. She worked at my father's office, and she came to the house one day with some papers. My father wasn't home, so the house elf led her inside and returned to me. She heard the two of us talking, and listened in enough to guess who was there. When my father returned home, she confronted him, and my father put a Memory Charm on her, one so powerful that it permanently damaged her mind."

'Thus sparking the change from overly inquisitive to forgetful,' Dumbledore thought sadly. A Memory Charm would explain that change. "Did anything happen at the Quidditch Cup?"

"I was there," Crouch said. "The house elf convinced my father to give me some time outside, invoking my late mother to convince him. I watched the game from the Top Box, where the house elf was pretending to save my father a seat." A slow smile started spreading across his face.

"What the house elf didn't know was that I was growing stronger. I was beginning to fight the Imperius Curse. It happened in the Top Box… I broke free. There was a wand sticking out of the pocket of the boy in front of me. I took it, intending to use it to seek out my Master."

Harry flinched again at those words, and Dumbledore guessed who's wand had been taken that night. "Then what?" he continued quietly.

"That night, the Death Eaters struck. I was angry, none of them had suffered for my Master like I had; they had turned their backs on him. I intended to use the wand to attack them, but the house elf intervened. Fearful, she bonded the pair of us with her own magic, dragging me off into the forest. I was able to escape long enough to fire the Dark Mark into the sky, as a reminder of the truly faithful. Ministry wizards Apparated nearby, firing Stunning Spells into the forest. One hit us, breaking the bond." Crouch took another deep breath. "Amos Diggory found the house elf, and my father knew I must be nearby. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed the house elf, for she had almost let me escape."

"How is it that Voldemort contacted you?" Dumbledore asked, though he already had his suspicions.

The insane smile continued spreading. "My Master had captured Bertha Jorkins, and learned of my existence from her. He came to my father's house in the arms of Wormtail, his other servant. He swiftly placed my father under the Imperius Curse, and asked me if I was willing to risk everything for him. I accepted instantly, it was my greatest dream. I was to get Harry Potter into the Triwizard Tournament, ensure he won, and turn the Cup into a Portkey."

"And so you needed Alastor Moody."

"Wormtail and I managed it, though he nearly allowed Moody to escape. I was able to take some Polyjuice Potion and be ready to face Arthur Weasley and the Muggle police. Then, I went to Hogwarts."

"And your father?"

"Like me, he started fighting the curse over time, but my Master is the greatest of wizard, he recognized that fact. He forced my father to write letters of instructions to work instead of leaving the house. But Wormtail was not vigilant enough, and my father escaped. I estimated the amount of time it would take my father to reach Hogwarts, and waited. Moody's magical eye was very helpful when my father eventually arrived. Harry Potter and Victor Krum were there, but I could not kill Harry Potter, so I waited until they were on the move to strike. Unfortunately, Harry Potter saw me and prevented me from silencing Victor Krum as well. Resuming my Moody form, I circled around and met Madame Maxime, agreeing to inform Albus Dumbledore of what had transpired. No one suspected me."

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "And tonight?" he asked.

"I carried the Triwizard Cup into the maze, and modified the Portkey so it would take Harry Potter to my Master. The plan succeeded, and I will be honored beyond the dreams of wizards!"

* * *

><p>Harry stared at the man he had thought was dead, barely able to believe what he was hearing. This was all too much, almost <em>everything<em> this year had come together, though Harry didn't know if it was because of chance or bad luck.

Dumbledore remained silent for a long moment, a look of pure disgust the likes of which Harry had never seen on his face. Final, he jerked his wand at Crouch Jr., binding him tightly.

"Severus, I would ask that you stand guard here, tell Cornelius what has transpired when he arrives," he said quietly. ", Minerva, take Alastor Moody down to the Hospital Wing, then go to Gryffindor Tower and get the Weasleys and Miss Granger and take them to the Hospital Wing as well, they will want to see Harry." The thought of being able to see his friends again lifted Harry's spirits somewhat. Dumbledore then turned to him. "Harry, please follow me."

Harry rose to his feet and followed Dumbledore as he swept out of the ruined office, leading the way towards his own. 'Justice?' Harry thought after a moment. 'You there?' There was no response.

"Sirius is here, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "He's waiting for you." Harry nodded, still trying to get Justice to talk to him. He could still sense the spirit in the back of his mind, but it seemed that Justice was ignoring him.

Harry suspended his efforts as he walked into Dumbledore's office and was immediately grabbed in a tight hug by Sirius.

"Harry," he breathed. "I was so worried… What happened?"

As Dumbledore started explaining to Sirius what Crouch had told them, Harry sank down into the chair, trying again to get Justice's attention. He was beginning to worry that the burst of energy they had unleashed against Crouch had hurt the spirit somehow.

Fawkes the Phoenix glided easily from his perch to sit on Harry's knee, blinking those gentle eyes at Harry. He smiled weakly, reaching out and running a hand through the bird's scarlet plumage. After a while, the phoenix hummed a few notes, which warmed Harry's heart.

It took him a moment to realize that Sirius and Dumbledore weren't talking anymore. Unwillingly, he broke eye contact with Fawkes to look at the Headmaster.

"Harry, I'm sorry to do this, but I need to know what happened to you after you touched the Cup tonight." Dumbledore said.

"Can't it wait till later?" Sirius asked hotly, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"No, I'm afraid it cannot," Dumbledore said. "If we postpone the moment, it will hurt more when he finally has to speak of what has happened. Better to purge the darkness now, than to let it fester." His eyes met Harry's. "I know it will be hard, Harry, but you've shown courage tonight beyond anything I have seen. I ask you, please, to show that courage one last time."

Fawkes sang again, rubbing his head against Harry's cheek. Harry slowly nodded, took a deep breath not unlike Crouch Jr., and started his story.

He spoke of how Nagini had bound him, leaving him unable to defend himself. He could almost feel her coils again.

He told them about the cauldron, even as its light burned his eyes again.

He repeated the spell that Wormtail had invoked to raise Voldemort: bone of the father, flesh of the servant, and blood of the enemy.

"What!" Sirius howled as Harry mentioned that Wormtail had stabbed him to gather the blood. Dumbledore rose to his feet and walked around the desk to get a closer look at the bloody wound.

"He said that my blood would make him stronger," Harry said dully. "He said that it would overcome the protection that my mother gave me, and it worked. He touched me."

For a moment, Harry thought that Dumbledore had a look of savage triumph on his face. It must have been a trick of the light, however, as he returned to his seat, his face looked as old as Harry had ever seen it. "So, Voldemort has overcome that particular defense. Please continue."

Harry heard the Death Eaters laughter, picking out as many names as he could remember.

He mentioned the basics of his duel with Voldemort, how completely outmatched he had been.

When he started talking about the golden beam and the phoenix song, however, he found that he was unable to continue. He remembered his parents, but somehow, to speak of them seemed… sacrilegious.

"What happened?" Sirius asked after a moment. "Why did the wands connect?"

"Priori Incantatem," Dumbledore said almost reverently.

"What?" Sirius asked. "I've heard of _Prior Incantato_, but…"

Dumbledore raised a hand. "They are similar, but different. Priori Incantatem is only invoked when two sibling wands meet. The stronger will force the other to regurgitate spells, like _Prior Incantato_, but to a greater degree." His eyes returned to Harry. "You must have seen shades of your parents, Harry."

Harry nodded, a lump in his throat.

"Harry's wand has the same core as Voldemort's?" Sirius asked, sounding stunned.

"Yes, they both have wands with a phoenix's feather. This phoenix's feathers, to be exact."

"My wand's core came from Fawkes?" Harry asked. Fawkes trilled, sounding pleased with himself. Harry suddenly noticed that he had lay his head against Harry's wound, his tears healing it.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "What did your parents, Bertha, and any other shades that appeared do?" Harry sighed, telling the Headmaster how the shades had thrown themselves in front of Voldemort, shielding Harry long enough to escape.

A long minute of silence passed before Dumbledore spoke again. "Harry, you have shown courage not seen in many, many years. There is only one more thing I would ask of you… what happened when you defeated Crouch?"

'…Justice, can I tell them?' Harry asked, cocking his head slightly. Still no response. 'Answer me, please.'

'…Tell them what you will…' Justice said finally, his voice small and broken.

"Professor…" Harry started. "You remember telling me to talk to the spirit in my mind?" Dumbledore nodded, though Sirius looked shocked. "I did… His name is Justice. He's… been helping me, you just… didn't see him at his best."

"Is he there?" Dumbledore asked quietly, his eyes piercing Harry. A feather-light touch brushed through Harry's mind.

"He is… but something's wrong…" Harry said. 'Justice?' he asked again, but once again Justice had retreated deeper into Harry's mind. With a sudden flash of guilt, Harry knew how the spirit had felt during the time Harry had shut him into his subconscious. "Ever since Crouch… he's been avoiding me."

"…when he returns, may I please speak to him?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"I'll see what he says," Harry promised.

"Now, Harry, you've given all we have the right to ask of you tonight. Let us go to the Hospital Wing, you're friends must be frantic." Dumbledore said as he rose to his feet. Sirius nodded sharply before transforming into his massive bear-dog form, pressing himself against Harry's leg. The trip to the Hospital Wing passed in silence, which was fine by Harry. He decided to give Justice some time, and thus stopped pestering him to talk.

When they finally arrived, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were all standing around, looking lost. Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were talking quietly near Moody's bed. Everyone looked up as Dumbledore, Harry, and Snuffles entered.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley choked slightly on her words, she must have been crying recently. "Oh, Harry!"

"Molly, please!" Dumbledore said, stepping between the two. "Harry has had a very trying time, at the moment, what he really needs now is quiet and rest. If you all wish to stay with him, you may, though I implore you to refrain from asking him any questions." Everyone nodded solemnly.

"Headmaster?" Madam Pomfrey said, staring at Sirius. "What is–"

"This dog will be remaining with Harry for the time being, he is very well trained."

Dumbledore continued talking in the background, but Harry wasn't listening as he climbed slowly into the bed. The Weasleys and Hermione were all watching him worriedly, but followed Dumbledore's instructions not to ask him what had happened, for which Harry was grateful.

A moment later, Madam Pomfrey, who had slipped into her office, returned with a goblet of purple potion. "This will allow you to sleep without dreams," she said softly, placing it on Harry's bedside table. "Drink it all, please."

Harry wasn't able to, as he started falling asleep before he had gotten three mouthfuls down.

He awoke sometime later, still feeling warm and groggy. It took him a moment to recognize the sounds around him as words.

"- going to wake him up if they don't shut up!" Mrs. Weasley was saying.

"Nothing else can have gone wrong tonight, can it?" Ron muttered.

As Harry finally forced his eyes open, he registered more voices, loud ones, coming from outside the Hospital Wing.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva–" Cornelius Fudge was saying angrily.

If Fudge was angry, then Professor McGonagall was livid. "You should never have brought it inside this castle!" she screamed. "When Dumbledore hears about this!"

Harry sat up as the doors burst open. Carefully pushing the curtains aside enough to see, he watched as a red-faced Fudge stalked up the ward.

"Where's Dumbledore?" he snapped at Mrs. Weasley.

"He's not here, Minister!" Mrs. Weasley said coolly. "This is a hospital wing, you should…"

Dumbledore chose that moment to come sweeping into the room, followed by Snape.

"What has happened?" he said coolly. "Minerva, I'm surprised at you, I told you to take over watching Crouch Jr."

"There's no need to watch him anymore!" Professor McGonagall cried, her face red with anger. "He brought a dementor, _a dementor_, into the school to question Crouch!"

"I am the Minister of Magic!" Fudge shouted. "It is my decision if I wish to bring security when interviewing a dangerous madman!"

"But the second that thing saw Crouch, it swooped down and… and…" Professor McGonagall said, shaking as she sought out the words no one needed to hear to know what had happened. Barty Crouch Jr. was now soulless.

"Surely this is no loss!" Fudge roared. "It seems he has been responsible for people getting killed!"

"But now he cannot tell us why he killed those people, Cornelius," Dumbledore said quietly. His eyes were narrowed, giving him an almost menacing look.

"We already know why he killed them!" Fudge blustered. "He was stark raving mad! He seemed to have thought that he was working for You-Know-Who!"

"He was receiving instructions from Lord Voldemort, Cornelius," Dumbledore said quietly. "Voldemort's goal was to regain his body, and those deaths were stepping stones towards that objective. The plan has succeeded, and Voldemort now has his body and strength returned to him."

Fudge stared at Dumbledore, gaping like a fish. He blinked several times before stuttering. "You-Know-Who returned? Preposterous… Come now, Dumbledore…"

"Myself, Severus, and Minerva all witnessed Crouch confess, under Veritaserum, to his actions. He was smuggled out of Azkaban by his father, and was contacted by Voldemort, who learned of his survival through Bertha Jorkins. They worked together to restore Voldemort to his body."

"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and Harry was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "you - you can't seriously believe that You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now… certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore–"

"Harry has also confirmed what happened. He was transported to Voldemort, and witnessed his return. Through courage and skill, Harry was able to escape Voldemort's wrath and bring this information back to us. I will explain everything to you if you just step into my office."

"Quite frankly, Dumbledore, I'm not willing to take that boy's word for it," Fudge said coldly.

"And why not?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes shining disconcertingly.

"Did you see what he did!" Fudge blustered. "There is something wrong with him! Not only that, he's a Parselmouth, a fact you've been keeping quiet, and having funny turns all over the place–"

"What you witnessed was a rare phenomenon, but not any sign of insanity," Dumbledore said, taking a step forward. "Being able to speak Parseltounge is no crime, and the 'funny turns' you refer too are pains in his scar that indicate the Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous. In short, Harry is as sane as you or I."

"You'll forgive me for being less certain than you! All I saw tonight was a murderous monster that had to be called off!" Fudge roared.

"How dare you!" Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley shrieked together. Sirius was snarling furiously, his hackles raised and his long, deadly looking teeth bared. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione looked like they wanted to pull their wands out and hex Fudge on the spot.

Harry, meanwhile, took a deep breath before speaking in a voice that was much calmer than he felt. "You know, Mr. Fudge, it's generally considered impolite to talk about people like that, especially when they can hear you." Everyone except Dumbledore jerked when Harry spoke, they hadn't realized that Harry was awake. "I can give you names of Death Eaters," Harry continued. "Lucius Malfoy–"

"Malfoy's been cleared!" Fudge shouted, looking offended. "A very old family, he donates to excellent causes!"

"Macnair," Harry continued as if Fudge hadn't said anything.

"He works for the Ministry!"

"Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle–" Harry continued ruthlessly before being drowned out by a furious Fudge.

"Be silent, boy! You are merely repeating the names of those who have already been cleared! You could have found those names anywhere!" He rounded on Dumbledore. "You see, Dumbledore… just as ridiculous a story as the one he was spouting last year, and you're still buying it! The boy's obviously gone completely mad this time–"

"Bertha Jorkins!" Professor McGonagall shouted. "Mr. Crouch! These are not the random acts of a lunatic! And where did Harry go for the forty one minutes he was missing tonight!"

"I don't see any evidence to the contrary!" Fudge roared. "As for where he went… how should I know? I certainly know he didn't go to some dead Dark Lord! I will not let you sow disorder and chaos in the world we've spent the last thirteen years trying to rebuild!"

'And Voldemort's attacks won't cause chaos?' Harry was about to ask before being interrupted by Dumbledore, who spoke with a grim calm that would give any rational person pause.

"Voldemort has returned," he said. "Accept that fact straightaway, Cornelius, and take the necessary steps, the situation can still be salvaged. The first and most important step is to remove the dementors from Azkaban."

"WHAT!" Fudge shouted, his eyes bulging. "Remove the… Dumbledore, are you mad? I'd be thrown out of office! Half of us only feel safe in our beds because of the dementor's vigil–"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly since we recognize that you've placed Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures that will join him the moment he asked them to. They will not remain loyal to you, Cornelius, because Voldemort can give them a much greater scope for their power and pleasure. Not only will he acquire the service of some of the most dangerous creatures in our world, his supporters will return, as dangerous as ever." He watched Fudge for a moment as if waiting for a response, but Fudge was too busy shaking his head and gaping. Finally, Dumbledore continued. "The second step you must take is to send envoy to the giants–"

"Envoy to the giants!" Fudge shrieked. "That's… people hate them… end of my career…"

"Voldemort convinced them to aid him last time, and he will do so again if you don't stop him. If action is not taken immediately, we will be hard pressed to prevent him from regaining the kind of power he had in the last war."

"Madness… absolute madness…" Fudge said.

"If you take the steps I have suggested, Cornelius, as well as several others, you can save our world, even if that fact is not recognized until later. Once it is, you will be seen as the bravest Minister we've ever had. Stand aside, however, and history will recall you as the one who gave Lord Voldemort another chance to destroy the world we have worked so hard to rebuild!" Dumbledore's eyes were blazing. "If that is the case, then I'm afraid we have reached a parting of the ways. You will act as you see fit, and I will act as I see fit."

Fudge bristled at these words. "Now see here, Dumbledore," he said warningly. "I've always had a lot of respect for you. I haven't agreed with some of your actions, but I've kept quiet. But if you're going to start working against me–"

"The only one against whom I intend to work is Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "So long as you too are against him, we remain on the same side."

Fudge stayed silent for another minute, looking desperate. "He just… can't be back, Dumbledore."

Snape muttered something under his breath and strode forward, pulling his left sleeve up as he went. When he reached Fudge, he showed the Minister something on his arm.

"There, the Dark Mark," he said coldly. "It's not as vivid as it was an hour ago, when it was burning black, but it is still visible. The Dark Lord branded all Death Eaters with this mark, as a way for us to distinguish each other as well as for communication. Both Karkaroff and myself felt it burn tonight. Why do you think Karkaroff fled? He betrayed to many Death Eaters to be safe in returning."

For a moment, Harry thought that Snape had convinced Fudge, but these hopes were dashed as Fudge recoiled, his face hardening. "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I've heard enough. I'll be in contact about the running of this school." He jammed his bowler hat on his head and made to stalk out of the room, but stopped. He turned and stomped over to Harry's bed, depositing a large sack on the table.

"Your winnings," he said roughly. "Normally, there would have been a presentation ceremony, but given the circumstances…" he shook his head and left the ward, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Dumbledore looked around.

"There is much work to be done, and little time to do it," he said. "Molly… am I right that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course," Mrs. Weasley said. "We know how Fudge is, it's Arthur's fondness for Muggle's that's held him back all these years; Fudge thinks he lacks proper pride."

"I'll contact Dad," Bill said, rising to his feet. "I'll go immediately."

"Minerva," Dumbledore continued as Bill said goodbye and left. "I need to see Hagrid and, if she consents, Madam Maxime, as soon as possible." Professor McGonagall nodded sharply and left.

Dumbledore waited a long moment before speaking again. "Now, it is time for some of our numbers to recognize each other. Sirius, you may resume your true form." The big black dog blinked at Dumbledore before shifting back to his human shape.

"Sirius Black!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, jumping back. Ron quickly told her to be quiet before she attracted any unwanted attention.

"Him…" Snape said coldly, his hand darting into his robes before Dumbledore stepped swiftly in front of him.

"Sirius is here at my request, as are you, Severus," he said firmly. "All those who know the truth need to stand together, including the pair of you. I want you both to set aside your old differences and trust each other." As the pair continued to glare hatefully at the other, both gripping wands, Dumbledore continued in uncommon exasperation. "For the moment, I will settle for a lack of open hostilities. Shake hands."

Looking quite unwilling, the pair did so, letting go as quickly as they could.

"Now," Dumbledore said, stepping between them again. "I have jobs for both of you. Sirius, I need you to gather the old crowd as soon as possible."

"I will," Sirius said before turning to Harry. "I'm sorry I have to go, Harry, but I'll see you again as soon as possible. Stay safe, okay?" Harry nodded sadly, and Sirius blinked for a moment before walking over to the door, opening it carefully, and returning to his dog form to leave the castle.

"Severus," Dumbledore said seriously. "You know what I am about to ask of you. Are you prepared?"

"I am," Snape said, his face completely blank.

"Then good luck to you," Dumbledore said. Snape nodded sharply before sweeping out after Sirius.

Dumbledore took a long breath before turning to Madam Pomfrey, who was standing in a corner. "Poppy, if I may have a quick word with you?" She nodded, gesturing towards her office. "Harry, take the rest of your potion, I will see you later."

Harry simply stared at the goblet, his thoughts blank. Somehow, it seemed wrong that he should be sleeping, when so much was going on. There was something he should be able to do…

Seeming to read his mind, Mrs. Weasley spoke gently. "Harry, you need to rest. So much has happened… you need your strength." She reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're all here, we'll watch over you."

"…Thank you…" Harry whispered. He felt a soft poke on his arm, and turned to see Ginny holding his potion, her head cocked. He accepted it, smiling sadly.

A sudden bang echoed through the room, causing everyone to turn to the window. Hermione was standing there, clutching something to her chest.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he lifted the goblet to his lips, draining it.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

><p>Somehow, despite there being no visible passing of time in the dream dormitory, Harry could tell it had been a long delay between his falling asleep in the mortal realm and his awakening here.<p>

'The dreamless sleep potion must have worked' he thought as he rose to his feet, dressing himself in his robes with a flicker of will. Things seemed… calmer, here. Perhaps it was the knowledge that the only two people in here were Harry himself and Justice, neither of whom were going to hurt Harry.

And speaking of Justice… Harry looked around their meeting area, which was empty. Before, Justice had always been here when Harry arrived.

"Are you alright, Justice?" he called, looking around. No answer.

Harry stared at the door leading deeper, towards Justice's area, considering his options. Ever since their first… "meeting," he hadn't gone that deep. Still, if Justice was hurt…

He carefully pushed the door open and found himself looking down another stairway lined with blue torches. Was it just him, or were they dimmer than normal? The beating heart sound returned as Harry made his way towards Justice's realm, though it also seemed weaker than it had been. Now getting seriously worried, Harry started taking the steps two at a time until he reached the door.

"Justice?" he called again, knocking. "Are you okay?" Silence. "Please answer me, are you hurt?"

"…I am… unharmed…" Justice said quietly.

"Can I come in?" Harry asked. For a moment, he thought that Justice was still ignoring him, but the door creaked open of its own accord. Taking a breath, Harry stepped inside.

The room no longer looked like a crypt, though it still seemed dark. The floor seemed to be made of dirt, and there were several cots scattered around the area, some of which were stained with a substance that looked like dried blood. At the back was a simple table, scattered with a few papers and a couple of books.

The first thing Harry noticed about Justice was that he had taken his helmet off, exposing his dark hair, tied back in a rough ponytail. He was sitting quietly, his face in his hands.

"Hey," Harry said as he carefully crossed the room, grabbing a barrel that was sitting near one of the cots instead of a table and dragging it over to the other side of Justice's makeshift desk. The spirit shifted his fingers enough so that Harry could see his dimly glowing eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I thought… I could make this work…" Justice said quietly. "I thought I could control myself… But I cannot…"

"Are you talking about what happened with Crouch?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Justice said. "I… let my anger consume me… It was like that poor girl all over again…"

"What happened last night wasn't your fault," Harry said gently. "Crouch was going to kill us…"

"Yes, an easy excuse," Justice said. "But where does it stop? What happens if someone simply annoys me? Do I attack then? Or if they just happen to be in my way?" He sighed. "I can never change."

"You don't know that," Harry said. "You seem to be making a conscious effort to."

"And yet I failed," Justice shot back. "Once again, I had to be called off a victim like a rabid dog, and I dragged my host along with me."

"What happened with the girl you mentioned?" Harry asked, trying to figure out what was going on behind those glowing eyes.

"Anders, myself, and a friend by the name of Hawke were on a mission when we found a group of Templar… mage hunters… attacking a young mage girl. I… Anders saved her, but his anger set me off." Justice's eyes closed. "She… called me a demon, and I was about to kill her before Hawke pulled me back. She was an innocent victim, scared for her life, and I almost killed her."

"Justice… that wasn't quite the same," Harry said. "You said it yourself, she was an innocent. Crouch was not." He reached out and patted Justice's shoulder. "And it wasn't just you. I was angry too, I share some of the blame."

"You were angry because I was angry…"

"No, I wasn't." Harry said firmly. "You don't have that much control over me." Justice looked up, and Harry was slightly surprised to realize his face was very similar to Anders', but he pushed on without commenting. "The situation was different. There, I agree, you let your anger get the best of you. This time, we were defending ourselves. Dumbledore's right, we were in the right that battle."

"I…" Justice started, but Harry pushed on.

"You have changed, and you can continue to change. I doubt your previous self would have stopped when Dumbledore told you to, but you did. And don't say that it was just me pushing you back, because that's not true, you stepped aside." Harry gazed firmly into Justice's eyes, half wishing he had some half moon glasses to look over like Dumbledore did, somehow that seemed more effective.

"Harry…" Justice said.

"We'll work together, Justice," Harry continued. "It won't be easy, but we'll both work to control our emotions."

"I don't want to be a burden…" Justice said.

"You won't be," Harry said. "Look at what we accomplished. Crouch was tough enough to stand up to Moody after being controlled by his father for years, and yet we _kicked his arse_ when we fought him together. If we can learn to be that strong, yet remain in control, we'll be able to protect people from Voldemort."

Justice studied Harry. "A daring plan, Harry," he said finally. "And one that has the possibility to go terribly wrong, if we cannot control ourselves."

"I have faith in you, Justice," Harry said simply. The spirit slowly lowered his hands, blinking. Finally, he smiled slightly and grabbed his helmet, putting it on his head with a clink.

"And I have faith in you, Harry Potter," he said, his voice strong again. "Let us walk into the future. Though the road may be hard, we shall overcome it together." They reached out and shook hands.

* * *

><p>When Harry awoke, the Hospital Wing was empty except for Ron, who was rubbing his eyes.<p>

"Hey, Harry," he said. "Dumbledore called all the students off for some sort of meeting, but we didn't want to leave you by yourself. In the end, Hermione and I decided that she'd go and see what Dumbledore wanted to say while I kept an eye on you; she's got a better memory than me."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said as he slipped his feet out of the bed.

"Are you sure you should be getting up?" Ron asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Ron," Harry said. "I just needed some rest." 'And to get my spirit friend to stop sulking,' he thought at Justice, who snorted.

The redhead watched Harry for a long moment before shaking his head. "Still, I think you should stay put until Madam Pomfrey gets back, she'll skin both of us alive if you get up without her permission, and then Mum'll do it again when I get home."

"You're probably right," Harry sighed, laying back down. The pair sat in silence for a minute before Harry asked what else had happened.

"Not much that I know of," Ron said. "Mum left a few hours after you fell asleep, she couldn't say why. Made us go to bed for a while, though." He sighed. "None of us really got to sleep, and we hurried back as soon as we could."

"You didn't have to do that, mate," Harry said, but Ron shook his head.

"We almost lost you last night," he said grimly. "A few hours of lost sleep is nothing compared to that."

The pair waited quietly for another few minutes before Hermione and Madam Pomfrey arrived, both looking tired.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said as she moved to sit next to his bed. Madam Pomfrey walked around and into her office, muttering something about "only five minutes."

"What did Dumbledore want?" Harry asked.

"He just told the school to not bother you about what happened last night," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than last night, though that's not hard," Harry said. "You two should really get some sleep, you look like you're about to collapse."

"We're fine, Harry," Ron said immediately.

"…Okay," Harry said quietly.

The trio sat for a long time, silence broken only occasionally by small, unimportant talk. Madam Pomfrey poked her head in once or twice, but seemed to decide that it was best to simply let Ron and Hermione stay rather try to kick them out, for which Harry was grateful. Neither of Harry's friends left for lunch or dinner, despite Harry's insistence that they get something to eat.

Finally, that evening, Madam Pomfrey let Harry leave the Hospital Wing. He noticed that the few people they met on the way quickly moved to the other side of whatever corridor they were in, whispering to their friends. He also realized, however, that this didn't bother him in the slightest, he had more important things to worry about.

'Justice,' he asked. 'Did you hear that Dumbledore wanted to talk to you?'

'I do,' Justice said. 'I must admit, that is not a conversation I am looking forward to. While with Anders, I was in the habit of hiding myself as much as… feasible. That habit will be hard to break.'

'Well, we don't have to tell everyone,' Harry said. 'We'll just talk to Dumbledore and see what he has to say.'

'What of Ronald and Hermione?' Justice asked. 'I thought you shared everything with them.'

'It's your decision, Justice,' Harry said. 'It affects you more than me.'

'…thank you.'

Early the next morning, just after the sun had risen, Harry slipped out of bed. Leaving a note for Ron and Hermione that he was alright, he just needed some time, he left and walked to Dumbledore's office.

"Cockroach Cluster," he said with a face, he still didn't understand why Dumbledore used such a disgusting thing as a password, or what had possessed the person who decided that it would be a good idea to make that sweet. He carefully knocked on the door, wondering if Dumbledore was awake yet.

"Enter," Dumbledore said. His eyes twinkled as Harry stepped in. "Good, I was hoping you would be coming by."

"You said you wanted to talk to Justice, Professor," Harry said.

"I do. Is he willing to speak with me?" Dumbledore asked.

'I am, though you will have to relay my responses,' Justice said. When Harry told Dumbledore this, he paused.

"There is a way around that," he said slowly. "Though I hesitate to mention it, since I do not want to invade your privacy."

"What do you mean, sir?" Harry asked.

"Have you ever heard of Legilimency, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shook his head. "In essence, it is the ability to read minds, though in actuality it is a far more complex interaction. If Justice is within your mind, it is possible I could find him with Legilimency and speak directly. However, if you are not comfortable with that, I am happy to go with your method."

'Justice?' Harry asked.

'It's your decision, Harry, I do not mind either way, though if it consoles you, I will not allow Professor Dumbledore direct access to your mind; he will be hearing me and me alone.'

'Thanks, Justice.' Harry took a deep breath. "It's alright, Professor. Just be careful, okay?"

"I will, Harry, and I assure you that I will not look into your thoughts and memories if there is any way to avoid it." Dumbledore's eyes met Harry's, and after a moment he felt a second of feather-light touch against his mind before Justice stepped forward, blocking it out.

'Can you hear me?' Justice asked.

"I can," Dumbledore said. "Fascinating, I have never encountered anyone such as you."

'I come from… far away,' Justice said.

"Clearly," Dumbledore said, his eyes still fixed on Harry's. "If I might ask how you and your friend, Anders, wasn't it, arrived here?"

'I… remember little, I'm afraid. Anders and I had just fought a terrible battle, the wounds of which killed him. And immediately after, I would have died myself, had I not taken refuge within Harry.' Justice paused. 'All I remember is an archway, and the whispers of the dead…'

This statement seemed like it meant something to Dumbledore, as his eyes widened slightly. He didn't seem to want to discuss it, however, as he moved on. "What do you intend to do now?"

'Harry has saved me from… terrible things, has given me hope for the future' Justice said. 'I wish to help him, and those he cares about, in any way I can.'

"Thank you, Justice," Dumbledore said after a long moment. "What I ask of you is to keep Harry safe. That is the most important thing you can do."

'I will.'

"Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "You know dark times are coming, don't you."

"Well, Voldemort's risen, so that's to be expected, isn't it?" Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded sadly, his eyes leaving Harry's.

"Yes. I had hoped to curb his power before it got out of control, but the Ministry's current stance is making that more difficult. All I ask, Harry, is that you remain safe. While at your aunt and uncle's house, take no risks. Voldemort's obsession with your death will not have faded, please give him no opportunity to harm you."

"We won't, Professor," Harry and Justice said together.

* * *

><p>On the last night of term, Harry entered the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. He was slightly surprised at how full it was; he had been avoiding eating there at normal meal times since people were still staring and whispering. Now, however, it couldn't be avoided.<p>

Even though Gryffindor had narrowly won the House Cup again, the Hall was far less boisterous than usual. Perhaps it was the grim atmosphere around the Head Table pervading into the rest of the Hall, or perhaps the student's just sensed that something wasn't right.

Harry looked up at the Head Table. Hagrid and Madame Maxime were talking quietly. Harry briefly wondered what Dumbledore had spoken to the pair of them about the night Voldemort had risen. Likely they were going to try and contact the giants, like Dumbledore had suggested that Fudge do. Harry hoped that they would be safe; giants were known to be violent.

Snape was sitting in absolute silence throughout the entire meal, his eyes sweeping the Hall at regular intervals. Harry had wondered if Snape would return, since he had likely gone to Voldemort's side. It seemed, however, that he was able to convince them of his loyalty.

'He bears watching,' Justice said. 'It is possible that he is truly on their side. We should keep our guard up around him.' Harry nodded slowly, there were still many questions surrounding Snape, questions that he needed to find answers for before he was able to trust the man as much as Dumbledore did.

And speaking of Dumbledore, he was rising slowly to his feet. The Hall swiftly became silent.

"The end of another year," Dumbledore called. "There are many things I wish to say to you, none of them particularly pleasant." He took a deep breath.

"As you all know, on the 24th of June, there was a terrible incident in the maze of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. The Ministry does not wish me to inform you of what happened, but I believe that it is your right to know, as the truth is generally preferable to lies." Another deep breath. "On that night, Lord Voldemort rose again."

Gasps of fear passed throughout the Hall as students at every table gaped at Dumbledore. A few, however, muttered among themselves; Malfoy was one of the latter.

Dumbledore waited for the murmurs to die down before continuing. "The Triwizard Tournament was brought this year to promote unity and understanding among different communities. These bonds of friendship that we have formed are now more important than ever before. Every guest in this Hall, every person, will be welcome here should they ever need to come." At these words, Dumbledore's eyes flicked to the Durmstrang students, still seated at the Slytherin table.

"I believe, and I have never wished more that I am mistaken, that dark times are coming," Dumbledore continued. "Lord Voldemort will seek to divide us, for he knows that we are weak when apart. We can only match his powers for sowing discord by showing an equal if not greater capacity to come together, forming bonds of friendship and trust. For when we stand together, laying aside differences in habit, language, and location, we are strong enough to weather any storm." The Headmaster's eyes swept the Hall.

"Stay safe. Stay strong. Each and every one of you is a candle, holding back the darkness. Do not let your light be extinguished."

These words stayed with Harry well into the next morning, as he and the other students were saying goodbye to the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students before leaving themselves. Fleur sought him out to thank him again for saving her sister, and to mention that she would probably be returning to England. Krum appeared not long later to talk to Hermione (Ron didn't appear particularly happy about this, spending most of his time trying to discreetly listen in on them.) Finally Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in their own compartment on the Hogwarts Express, simply talking.

Harry glanced at the Daily Prophet that was sticking out of Hermione's bag, wondering what it had to say. "There's nothing in there," Hermione said, following his gaze. "Fudge's probably forcing the Prophet to keep quiet."

"He'll never stop Rita Skeeter," Ron said. Hermione smirked.

"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything for the Prophet since the Third Task," she said smugly. "In fact, she isn't going to be writing anything for quite a while, not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her!"

"Huh?" Ron and Harry asked, glancing at each other. Hermione's grin widened.

"I've found out how she's been listening in on everything," she said with a smirk. "And it is most certainly illegal. You see, Rita Skeeter can turn into a beetle."

"Your joking…" Harry whispered as he stared at the jar Hermione had pulled out during her spiel. In it was a single, fat beetle.

'That's her, all right,' Justice said quietly. 'Or at least someone transformed. I can sense their magic.'

"How did you figure that out?" Ron asked, looking stunned and impressed. Hermione smiled.

"Well, Harry did give me the idea when he said 'bugged' I realized that, while electronic bugs don't work around Hogwarts, they were named bugs for a reason." She shook the jar slightly, causing the beetle to buzz angrily. "Look closely, those markings around her eyes are just like those horrid glasses she wears."

"So, what are you going to do with her?" Harry asked.

"I'll let her out at London," Hermione said, putting the jar away. "And I've told her that she's going to keep her quill to herself for a whole year, or else."

"Very clever, Granger," Malfoy drawled as he pushed the door open, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle. All three looked smug.

"So, you've caught some pathetic reporter. So what?" He stepped into the compartment, his smirk widening. "Trying not to think about what's really going on, are you? Trying to pretend nothing's happened."

"Get. Out." Harry said, rising to his feet and locking eyes with Malfoy. He didn't touch his wand; he didn't have to. Normally, he would have felt angry, but he didn't. Malfoy was too pathetic for him to bother himself over.

"You picked the losing side, Potter," Malfoy spat. "I warned you, didn't I? I told you that if you hung out with riffraff like these two," he jerked his head contemptuously at Ron and Hermione, "that they would rub off on you. Well, it's too late. The Dark Lord has risen, and soon they will be swept aside, Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first!"

He was cut off as a cold, hard voice spoke up behind the arrogant Slytherin. "Malfoy, you are out of line," Cedric Diggory said, his grey eyes narrowed. Behind him stood Cho Chang, who was looking livid. "Walk away now."

"Who's going to make me?" Malfoy shot back.

"That would be us, right o brother mine?" Fred said to George, tapping Malfoy on the shoulder with his wand. "You see, you happen to be insulting our Ickle Ronniekins. That's our job."

Malfoy glanced around, realizing that Ron and Hermione had both drawn their own wands and were pointing them at him and his cronies. Neither Harry, Cedric, nor Cho had taken their wands out, but the threat was still there.

"We'll see who's laughing soon," Malfoy spat before stalking away.

"Mind if we come in?" Cedric and George asked at the same time. Everyone chuckled slightly as Harry nodded, shifting Hedwig's cage to make room.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" Fred asked lightly as he pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. Everyone nodded, grinning.

"So," Harry asked George after several games. "Who were you writing to?" It took the twins a moment to figure out what he was talking about.

"Oh, that," Fred said, sounding sour. "It doesn't really matter."

"We've given up, see." George continued.

After a few more attempts to get them to talk, George finally relented.

"It was Ludo Bagman," he said bitterly.

"Bagman?" Cedric asked, looking confused. "What's he got to do with anything?"

"You were at the World Cup, right?" Fred asked, and both Cedric and Cho nodded. "Well, we had a bet with Bagman, that Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch."

"And that happened," Cho said. "Shocks me to this day."

"And you said he paid you," Harry cut in.

"Yes, he paid us… in leprechaun gold. That stuff disappears after a few hours. By the next morning, it was gone."

"But…" Hermione said. "It was just a mistake, right?" Fred chuckled darkly.

"That's what we thought, so we sent a letter. He ignored it. We've been trying to talk to him all year, but he's been avoiding us." He shook his head. "Finally, he just said that we were too young to be gambling and he wasn't paying us a thing."

"So," George continued. "We demanded our money back."

"And he refused?" Ron said, looking upset.

"Yep. Well we figured out what was going on soon after. Lee Jordan's dad has been having trouble getting money off Bagman too. Turns out he's broke. Lost all his money gambling, and took out some big loans from the goblins. They cornered him in the forest after the game and took all his money, but it still wasn't enough to pay them off. They've been following him ever since."

"So what happened?" Harry asked.

"The git managed to pay them back in the end. He put a big bet on you, that you'd win the tournament."

"Which Harry did," Cedric said, looking confused. "So what's the problem?"

"Well, either by design or accident, Bagman only had enough money to pay the goblins themselves back, not anyone else. So we didn't get anything." Fred sighed in frustration.

Harry watched them throughout the rest of the trip back to London, his thoughts whirling. As the train pulled into King Cross and everyone started trying to gather their luggage, Harry pulled the twins aside.

"I want you two to have this," he said, pushing the bag of Galleons that he'd won into their hands. They stared at him as if he had grown a few extra limbs.

"Are your mental, Harry?" Fred asked weakly.

"Mate, there must be a thousand Galleons in here?" George continued, trying to give it back to Harry.

"I know, it's for the joke shop," Harry said. "I don't need the money, but I'm sure we'll all need some laughs before too long." As the twins opened their mouths to refuse, Harry pulled out his wand. "Take them or I'll hex you." He had no intention of actually doing it, but he wanted them to know he was serious. "My condition is that you buy some new dress robes for Ron."

"You're mental, mate… but thanks," Fred said.

"This is just a loan," George said seriously. "One day, we will pay you back for this." Harry was about to tell them that they didn't have to, but realized that it was their choice; like it was his choice to give them the money.

"That was a kind thing you did, Harry," Cedric said quietly as the twins left. He had already said goodbye to Cho, and was smiling at Harry.

"I don't want it," Harry said, and Cedric nodded.

"Harry, you're a good person," he said. "And it has been a tremendous honor knowing you." He held out his hand. "I hope we see each other again."

"So do I, Cedric," Harry said, shaking the older boy's hand.

"Stay safe. If You-Know-Who's on the move, then you're the one at greatest risk," Cedric said.

"Keep on your toes yourself, Cedric," Harry said. With a final nod, Cedric left the train.

"Harry, mate, what's going on?" Ron asked as he poked his head back into the train. "Everyone's waiting for you."

"Sorry, I was just talking to Cedric," Harry said as he grabbed his trunk and hopped out of the train. Ron shook his head, grinning, before leading Harry over to the rest of the Weasley family. Hermione was talking with her mother nearby, and the whole group waited together to leave Platform 9 and 3/4s to return to the Muggle world.

"Finally!" Uncle Vernon snapped as Harry spotted him. "Get in the car, boy, we don't have much time!" With that, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the station, followed by Harry, who waved one last time to his friends, hoping that he would see them again sooner rather than later.

'It will be hard, being away from magic,' Justice mused. 'All my existence, it has surrounded me. To be in a place where magic is not just forbidden, but nearly nonexistent…'

'I know,' Harry thought back, looking around. 'This world isn't my home. Hogwarts, the Burrow, those places are home to me.'

' True…' Justice said. As Harry got into the back of the car, pressed up against his massive cousin Dudley, who tried to push himself as far away as possible, Justice spoke up again. 'So… how does this 'car' work, anyways? It is not magic, but it runs independently…' Harry smiled slightly.

"What are you smirking about, boy?"

"Nothing, Aunt Petunia" Harry said.

'This is going to be an even longer time than I had anticipated, if these are the people you must live with,' Justice said sourly. Harry agreed, but didn't let any expression cross his face that might set his relatives off.

The trip back to Little Whinging passed in silence, as the Dursleys were to busy watching Harry as if he were a bomb to make small talk, and Harry had no interest in speaking to them. He and Justice talked quietly about what life was going to be like, and how best to keep sane. In the end, they decided to just talk to each other, reminding the other that they weren't alone anymore.

Finally, Uncle Vernon's company car pulled up into the perfect, boring driveway of perfect, boring Number 4 Privet Drive.

"Get inside, before the neighbors have to look at you too much!" Uncle Vernon snapped as he hurried towards the door. Harry was about to follow when he saw another car pull up and a woman get out.

She was, quite frankly, and ugly woman. She looked like a giant toad, and had a bow in her hair that looked like a stupid and/or daring fly perched on her head. She wore a suit, and carried a clipboard. She walked up the pathway to Number 4 as if she owned the place, smiling falsely at everyone.

"Can I help you?" Uncle Vernon asked, his voice, if not polite, then at least neutral.

"Vernon Dursley?" the woman asked in a high, simpering voice. Uncle Vernon nodded sharply. "My name is Dolores Umbridge, and I'm here on an important job for the Ministry of Magic concerning Harry Potter."

Everyone's face paled at those words.

AN: Cliffhanger! What dastardly scheme has Umbridge come up with to make Harry's life miserable, I wonder? (evil smirk)

There's one last chapter that will pertain to The Goblet of Fire, and then I'll move on to Order of the Phoenix. The next chapter is an experiment I'm doing, and won't be a continuation of the plot, but rather an expansion.

Voting for pairings will continue until the chapter after next (i.e. the first of the Order of the Phoenix chapters.) It's very close, so there's still time for anyone. Please remember to at least try to follow the format, though I'm being less strict than I was planning to be, I still want a good reason.

Review Response:

Xeno-Freak: I'm glad you like Flames of the Dragon Mage, it's my first fic so it will always have a place in my heart. Also, thanks for the comments. I've never read Codex Alera, but I have read the Dresden Files, which is by the same author, so I know what you mean.

ApologiseToJesseJackson: Yes, the trend will be continuing, and thanks for your input.

Fayneir: I think Harry was looking for something less drastic.

xFactor101: Thanks for reading and giving your input.

Skelo: Who is Dumbledore talking to; me or the students? Either way, it seems out of character.

narutofan020: It was funny at first, but then I remembered I actually had to do something about it.

Lego Land: I'm afraid I won't be doing none, but I hope you read the story anyways.

Life is a Paradox: Thanks for your participation and I hope you like the way the story goes, no matter what happens.

unrealwarfang: No one else from Dragon Age is likely to come.

Dusel: The reason I'm doing this now when the pairing isn't going to be showing up until late book 5-mid book 6 is precisely so I can have time to develop. I don't think Harry's the type for deliberately casual relationships.

TeninChewang: Thank you for your input and following the format.

Neon156: I'm new to this whole thing, so I had no clue I could do that. Besides, how many people actually read my profile?

Jedi Master Albus: You gave an interesting idea, one I hadn't thought of before. Thank you.

Eromancer: I read your PM and included it in the voting.

SamG589: Thank you for your input.

Twingon Halolover: Thank you for your review, it was the one that made me decide to not strictly observe the format. You gave wonderful reasons, so I couldn't bring myself to discount it because of a minor, utterly unimportant distinction.

Danget the critic: Thank you for your review.

Deadzepplin: Not exactly the strong reason I was looking for…

Fogo333: I wanted to make Justice more "human," in that he's not perfect. He's got a burning, almost crippling guilt over what he and Anders did.

Cjonwalfrus: It is so very hard to argue with the Nargles.

Andrew MacKenzie: And your strong reason is? For completion's sake.

FreelanceBum: Thanks again for betaing.

Darksnider05: So, are you voting for Luna?

Cold Burn: Harry will defiantly be friends with other people, especially Luna.

Rimshooter: Thanks for overcoming the temptation.

Rizaidym: Yes, that does count ;)

wolfey141: I'm afraid Tonks isn't an option, as I already said. When I said "other girl" I meant someone like Tracy Davis. Sorry.

ShotgunWilly: Thanks for the corrections, and hopefully since I have a beta, there will be fewer mistakes like that in the future.

raw666: Justice doesn't completely control Harry, who is still only 14 and sees killing as a last resort, especially after his close call with Sirius. Stuns can be lifted, Death cannot.

Until next time.


	12. From Another Side

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sorry this took so long, I've just not been feeling motivated for a while.

This chapter is an experiment. Essentially, I will be giving a voice to different characters at certain important points of the story. If you're just interested in continuing the plot, feel free to skip this chapter and move on. If, however, you want an interesting view on what others were thinking, then this might be the chapter for you.

You get a cookie if you figure out why I used the x after the chapter number. : )

Chapter 10x: From Another Side

** Barty Crouch Jr.**

Crouch muttered furiously under her breath as he stumbled slightly. Even though he had been using this damn leg for a few days, he was still having trouble getting used to the stupid thing.

After he and that idiot Wormtail had subdued Moody, he had been forced to adapt so as to throw Arthur Weasley off his trail. Unfortunately, he had nearly blown his cover when he tripped over the wooden leg, having to improvise a bit to get Weasley to leave him alone.

Still, not everything the fool Auror had was bad. Crouch took a moment to spin the magical eye, marveling at how it allowed him to see everything around him. No wonder it had been such a pain sneaking up on him. After this was all over, he fully intended to put one of his own eyes out so he could continue using it. But before that happy day, he had to finish his master's plan.

He had a month to plan how to get Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire. He still believed that the best plan was to simply Confundus the Goblet into thinking there were four schools, so as to guarantee that Potter got in, since he had yet to see what was so special about the boy.

His ears perked, picking up cruel laughter from the Entrance Hall, which was not far. Unless he was much mistaken, it was the Malfoy brat, it had a distinct nasally tone that he remember from the Quidditch World Cup. Growling, he stomped towards the hall. His hatred for the cowards that had abandoned his master had not faded in the slightest.

As he came closer, he realized that the Malfoy brat was reading something out loud, a newspaper article about how Weasley Sr. had come to help Moody, or Crouch, as it had turned out. When Crouch finally reached the top of the stairs, Malfoy was folding the paper up to show a picture.

"You call that a house, Weasley!" the boy shouted, his eyes shining with malice. Crouch spun his eye to watch Ronald Weasley, his fists clenched in rage. Beside him stood Potter, whose anger was harder to spot, but no less real. "And your mother could stand to lose some weight!"

Normally, Crouch would have agreed wholeheartedly with putting blood-traitors in their place, but he had to stay on Potter's good side, he might need to help the boy through the Tournament later.

"Get stuffed!" Potter shouted, his hand clenching Weasley's shoulder to hold him back.

"You were staying with them, right Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "Tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

Potter's shoulders tensed, and for a moment Crouch thought he was going to lunge for Malfoy, but he restrained himself, retaliating with his tongue instead. "You know your mother, Malfoy?" he spat. "That expression she's got like she's got dung under her nose? Does she always look like that, or is it just because you were with her?"

Crouch chuckled slightly, Potter was right, he remembered Narcissa; she certainly had a distinctly arrogant aura about her. He had never like her much, even before she and her traitor husband had turned their backs on the Dark Lord.

Malfoy Jr. turned pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter!" he snarled.

'Weakling,' Crouch thought in disgust as Potter started laughing, his eyes hard.

"Then keep your mouth shut about other people's mothers." The boy spun his blood traitor friend around and walked towards the Great Hall.

What happened next was so fast that Crouch was barely able to track it. Malfoy's hand flew towards his wand, drawing it and pointing it at Potter's back. Crouch drew his own wand, intending to punish the coward who was going to harm the boy his master needed to return to the world.

Potter, however, was faster. As a jet of light flew from Malfoy's wand, Potter was already ducking, his hand slipping into his robes to grab his own wand. As he straightened and turned, Crouch was surprised to see that the boy was beginning to glow. His eyes and scar flared blue as a wave of power flew from his wand, tossing the arrogant traitor back. Potter kept his wand on the boy even as his free hand snatched Malfoy's wand out of the air.

The other students who were scattered around the hall were all gaping at Potter, fear evident in their eyes. Crouch realized he had to step in quickly, or Potter might get in trouble for this. This was his opportunity to present himself a friend.

Clapping, he advanced down the stairs. Potter's burning eyes turned on him, though he was obviously still studying the Malfoy brat as he clambered to his feet.

"Well done, Potter, well done!" Crouch called, forcing his face into a smile. Now to put a bit of Moody into his response. "Excellent reflexes, true aim. Exactly what I've been hoping for."

Potter's wand slowly lowered, as the blaze started fading. The eyes remained wary, however. "Thank you, Professor," he said, his voice cool. Crouch's grin widened.

"My father…" Malfoy started, obviously trying to salvage some pride from the debacle. Crouch interrupted, his hatred flaring again.

"You know, boy?" he growled, causing the Malfoy heir to flinch. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's backs are turned. It's a stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. If Mr. Potter hadn't already dealt with you, I would have done something worse." He bared his teeth at the thought of Lucious Malfoy. "As for your father, let's say I know things about your father. If you tell him anything, tell him old Moody's keeping an eye on his son."

'If only I could tell him who was actually watching his son,' Crouch thought as Malfoy flushed. Lucious knew just how brutal Crouch could be in enforcing the Dark Lord's will, the thought of his precious heir being within Crouch's grasp would send a chill through the traitor's blood. But unfortunately, his master had told him not to include any old Death Eaters, since they had all proven themselves unworthy.

Pointedly ignoring Malfoy, Crouch turned back to Potter. "Now Potter, why don't you give that to me?" he said calmly as he gestured to Malfoy's wand. "I'll keep it nice and safe." Potter handed the wand to Crouch, his eyes still wary. Now to solidify the boy's trust. "And again, nice job. In fact, ten points to Gryffindor for this practical demonstration of what to do if you're ever attacked from behind." Several of the other students gasped at this, but none chose to comment. Potter looked surprised, before a small smile crossed his face. Nodding, Crouch turned back to Malfoy. "Now, I think we should have a quick talk with your head of house before I give this back to you, laddie. That would be Snape, yes? Another old friend of mine, Snape, been meaning to pay him a visit."

As he dragged the blonde weakling down the steps towards Snape's office, he thought about what had just transpired. He had never, in his years of service to the Dark Lord, seen anything like what Potter had done. He had started moving before Malfoy had cast his spell, and his aim had been far too good for a fourteen-year-old.

Perhaps he would have an easier time guiding Potter through the Tournament than he had thought.

* * *

><p><strong>Hermione Granger<strong>

Hermione glanced up from Defense book she had been reading while waiting for Professor Moody to arrive when the door to the classroom finally opened. Nudging Ron and Harry, who had been engrossed in a discussion about Quidditch, as always, she closed her book and settled herself attentively, waiting for the professor to begin his lecture.

For the life of her, she couldn't understand why they were so obsessed with the sport. Sure, it was fun to watch on occasion, but they couldn't _still _be debating the Quidditch Cup! Really, for Hermione, the most interesting part of the Cup had been seeing how other wizarding cultures were different from her own.

She had thought that Harry might have been putting more effort into his schoolwork this year, since he seemed to have improved a great deal. But for the life of her, she couldn't see how; his study habits hadn't changed in the slightest when he was around her, and she simply couldn't imagine him reading in his dormitory.

She shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind as Professor Moody opened his mouth. "Get up, all of you, we need the space today." Everyone quickly clambered to their feet, wondering what Professor Moody would be doing with them that would need space. The scarred professor smiled grimly. "Put the wands away, you won't be needing them. The only weapon you'll have is your will."

"What do you mean, sir?" Dean asked, looking confused. He flinched slightly as Professor Moody's magical eye spun towards him.

"Today, we will be completing our study of the Imperius Curse," Professor Moody growled, waving his wand to banish the desks to the edge of the room. "It's time to see if you've learned enough to resist it. I will be placing the curse on each of you, and you will attempt to break its hold over you."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "But… didn't you say it was illegal, Professor?" she stammered. He couldn't possibly be actually considering this… he was just joking…

Professor Moody's magical eye pinned her, his normal one narrowing slightly. "Professor Dumbledore and I think that you should know what it feels like," he growled. "If you want to find out the hard way, when someone is using it to make you do horrible things, that's fine by me. You're excused, off you go."

"I didn't say I wanted to leave…" Hermione said weakly, trying to ignore Ron's snicker. Why did he have to be such a _boy_!?

As Lavender was called forward, Hermione risked a glance at her two friends. Ron was looking interested, if a bit apprehensive. For all his normal emotional range, he might as well have been screaming in terror.

It was Harry that worried her. He was shaking, and as Lavender broke and started jumping around like a squirrel, he looked on the verge of tears. Moody's eye was still on her, however, so she couldn't try to comfort him.

Classmate after classmate was called forward, and as each one fell under the sway of the curse, Harry started shaking more. Even Ron was starting to notice, his weak chuckles fading as he shared a worried look with Hermione. Something was bothering their friend.

"Granger, you're up!" Moody called, causing Hermione to jump. Steeling herself, she stepped forward, remembering what she had read.

'The curse operates by setting the victim at ease,' she recited in her mind. 'Resistance is based on remembering what is really going on, and convincing oneself that the curse's suggestions are wrong. I can do this!'

_ "Imperio!"_

Instantly, a warmth spread throughout Hermione, a gentle, easy warmth that she hadn't felt since she had basked in a pool in France with her parents, the sun shining down... She smiled; it was such a nice feeling…

_"Quote some Shakespeare for us,"_ a quiet voice said gently, just another part of the warmth.

_"That doesn't seem…"_ another voice started, but it was drowned out by Hermione. Surely it couldn't hurt to quote Shakespeare, he was such a brilliant author. Why shouldn't people hear his words…

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Hermione said, smiling. Somehow, an image of a red-headed figure drifted through her mind as she said those words.

"That's enough," Professor Moody said, and the warmth faded, leaving Hermione feeling cold as she stood in the center of the classroom, hearing several quiet snickers around her. "A nice effort, but not nearly good enough." Professor Moody dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Blushing, she retreated to Ron and Harry, wondering what had happened. One moment, she had been all set, the next… everything she knew, every thought, everything had been swept away.

'Maybe it was because the demand was benign…' she thought weakly, but she instinctively knew that, even if Professor Moody had asked her to kill Ron and Harry, she would have done it in an instant and with a smile, just to keep the warmth…

"What was it like?" Ron asked.

'Honestly, Ron, if you had done the reading you would know that!' she wanted to say, but the sight of Harry, still shaking, stilled her tongue. "Weird," she said finally. "It was like… no matter how ridiculous the request… it made sense, and was completely natural."

A small whimper tore itself from Harry's lips as Parvati started dancing, her movements fluid and graceful.

"Harry…" she started, trying to think of something to say to her friend. Before she could, however, Professor Moody's voice cracked, calling Harry up.

"I hope he's alright," Ron said warily as Harry stood in the center of the room, still shaking. Hermione sighed.

_"Imperio!"_ Professor Moody called, pointing his wand at Harry.

A split second passed after the spell impacted Harry when he looked just like the others, perfectly calm. Then, blue light flared for a moment, and a wordless roar emitted from his lips. Professor Moody was blasted back over his desk by the light, breaking the ink bottles and glass of water that were laid upon it.

"Professor!" Hermione squealed. She may not like him much at the moment, since he was doing these horrible, embarrassing things, but he was still a _professor_!

Professor Moody pulled himself to his feet, rubbing the back of his head, which he must have smacked against the floor. Hermione took a worried step forward, but he waved her back.

"I'm alright, girl, keep your head," he growled, his eyes on Harry, who was still standing stock-still in the center of the room. "What was that, Potter?"

"I… don't know, Professor," Harry said, sounding as confused as everyone else.

After a moment, Professor Moody chuckled, surprising everyone. "Well, whatever it is, it worked brilliantly. The important thing is that you have a massive resistance to the Imperius Curse. They'll have a hard time controlling you." He smiled grimly as he waved Harry away.

Hermione spent the rest of the class surreptitiously observing Harry. After the… incident… with Malfoy in the Entrance Hall a few weeks ago, she had spent some of her time in the library looking for any hint of what he had done, but she hadn't had much luck. Still, since she was mostly in there researching house-elf enslavement, maybe that wasn't too surprising. Still, she should try again. She couldn't help but feel that, whatever it was, it was not completely benign.

If she was right, it would only grow with time.

* * *

><p><strong>Albus Dumbledore<strong>

Dumbledore smiled serenely as he stepped off the moving stairway leading to his office on the morning of October the 31. Before leaving his office, he had checked the ward-stone for the Age Line he had placed around the Goblet of Fire, unsurprised when he saw that it had triggered twice. Therefore, he made his way to the Hospital Wing to check on the students that had tried to overcome his defenses.

"Headmaster," Poppy said, her voice cool. Behind her, two students were lying in bed, their faces still sporting long white beards.

"Poppy, surely you cannot still be upset with me about this" Dumbledore said. "It was a harmless joke."

"It was excessive!" the matron said, her eyes narrowed. "I agree that these students were extremely foolish, as I think this entire tournament is foolish. But did you have to make fun of them as well?"

"If the students want to be older than they are, I am happy to oblige them, at least for a while," Dumbledore smiled as he recognized the students. Mr. Summers of Hufflepuff smiled ruefully at Dumbledore while Miss Fawcett buried her face in her hands. Dumbledore simply smiled at them before allowing himself to be ushered out by Poppy.

"You know, Dumbledore," Minerva said when he relayed this story to her at the Head Table. "I think Poppy has a point. The beards were just excessive." Dumbledore shook his head, smiling. He was certain that, one day, all those who tried to get over the Age Line and failed would laugh about it. Better that than what would happen if they were to actually make it across the Line.

If nothing happened to those that tried to enter and failed, then more would attempt, and eventually one student would find a mistake. Dumbledore knew he was far from infallible. Best to drive attempters off for fear of embarrassment than risk an underage student actually making it into the Tournament.

As he finished these grim thoughts, the sound of laughter and cheering rose from the Entrance Hall, where the Goblet was located. Dumbledore briefly wondered who had entered before he felt the outer line flare, which meant someone underage was approaching the true line. Smiling again, Dumbledore quickly rose to his feet and walked towards the doors; he wanted to see his handiwork first hand.

Just as he pushed open the doors, Fred and George Weasley jumped across the Line. After the half-second of warning time, the Line tossed them back out. The rest of the students gathered in the Hall started laughing as the beards appeared with a pop; two long, fine, silver beards.

"I did warn you," Dumbledore couldn't help but say, smiling as the twins, rather than look mortified, laughed along with everyone else. Troublemakers they may be, but they had good hearts. "I suggest you both go to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett and Mr. Summers, both of whom attempted to age themselves with an Aging Potion."

Watching the twins go, Dumbledore caught sight of Harry, standing with his friends Ronald and Hermione. Severus had been convinced that Harry would attempt to enter the Tournament, but Dumbledore had known that the boy wouldn't.

What worried Dumbledore were the circles under Harry's eyes. They were small, but to his trained eye, it was clear that Harry hadn't been getting much sleep, probably for a fairly long time. Still, Harry seemed to be in good spirits as he entered the Great Hall with his friends, so Dumbledore decided to let it go.

The day passed quickly. Dumbledore had one last meeting with Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Ludo Bagman, and Barty Crouch. Before he knew it, it was time for the feast to begin, and the group trooped back to the Great Hall.

Throughout the feast, the whole hall was buzzing with conversation. In between chatter with Minerva and Karkaroff, Dumbledore's eyes remained on the Goblet of Fire. It's flame was shifting as the cold, rational mind within churned through the various names it had been given, as well as the sensations that came with them. It would be ready soon.

As the talking within the Hall reached its peak, Dumbledore saw the Goblet's flame flash, indicating that it was finally coming to a decision. With a wordless spell, he sent word to the house elves that they should clear the plates.

"The Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore called as every face in the hall turned to him. Rising to his feet, he walked slowly around the Head Table, continuing. "When the champions' names are called, I would ask them to come forward and wait in the antechamber over there for their first instructions." Then, he waved his hands, silently snuffing all the torches along the walls, leaving the hall dim.

Finally, the Goblet surged again before flaring red. After a long moment, a tongue of fire rose from the depths of the Goblet, bearing a piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it easily, the fire was magical, and thus the paper was quite cool. He read it.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!" he called.

Dumbledore couldn't say he was surprised at the choice the Goblet had made. Viktor Krum was a strong, disciplined young man; he would be able to withstand the pressure of the Tournament. Dumbledore just wished he would look a little more cheerful as he made his way forward.

Finally, Viktor was on his way into the antechamber, and everyone started staring at the Goblet again. After a long moment, the Goblet spat out another name.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" As he watched a silver-haired young woman rise to her feet, he noted the subtle aura around her. She was likely a half-veela; rare, but not unheard of. Her magic would likely be a bit stronger than the average witch's, and so long as she could overcome her heritage, she would do well.

Finally, it was time for the Hogwarts champion. Dumbledore found himself leading forward with interest, curious as to which of his students would be chosen. Not that he had any favorites, mind you, but he was interested nonetheless.

It took several long seconds for the Goblet to give the final name, which meant that it was having a hard time deciding who was the best Hogwarts had to offer. Finally, however, the Goblet's flames roared red, and a third parchment was ejected. Dumbledore caught it and read the name with a smile.

"The Hogwarts champion!" he called, "Cedric Diggory!"

It took Dumbledore a moment to figure out where Cedric was, since the entire Hufflepuff table had rose as one, their cheers loud enough to shake the stones of Hogwarts. Finally, however, Dumbledore caught sight of the tall boy, smiling slightly as his friends and classmates thumped him on the back.

"Well done, Cedric," he said quietly as they shook hands. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't surprised that Cedric had been chosen. The boy was an unbelievably hard worker, and had the raw intelligence to match. He was also one of the kindest, most understanding people Dumbledore had ever seen. All in all, Dumbledore could think of few people he would rather have representing Hogwarts and what it stood for.

As Cedric closed the door leading into the antechamber, Dumbledore looked around at the rest of the Hall, raising his voice. "Excellent! Now we have our three champions, and I trust that you will give them every ounce of support you can. Your cheers contribute a very real…"

Suddenly, a flicker of magic passed over Dumbledore as the Goblet of Fire turned red again. Staring in stunned confusion, Dumbledore's hand automatically reached out to catch the piece of parchment as it fell. He didn't look at immediately, still studying the Goblet. He ran a hand along the rough wooden surface, glancing at Barty and Ludo, neither of whom seemed to know what was going on. Finally, he looked down at the name.

He blinked. When the words didn't change, he blinked again.

'This… can't… be…'

Two words. Eleven letters. A world of problems.

Finally, forced to accept that staring at the name wouldn't change it, Dumbledore looked up, turning to the Gryffindor table.

"_Harry Potter_," he said, his voice empty.

A brief moment of silence passed through the Hall as everyone tried to digest those words. Then, inevitably, the buzz of speculation started. But Dumbledore ignored everything else in favor of watching.

Harry's body tensed at his name. He didn't move a muscle for the longest time, simply sat.

Minerva had rushed around the table at the moment Dumbledore had said Harry's name. "Dumbledore, what's the meaning of this!" she hissed. "There's no way Harry can survive the tournament!"

"This was never my intention, Minerva," Dumbledore breathed back, still watching Harry. The boy had finally turned to his friends, and his body language said he was terrified.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called, louder this time. Best to get this mess over with as soon as possible, see if there was any way to get him out of the Tournament. Normally there was a binding contract, but if the student didn't put their own name in, maybe it didn't apply…

Slowly, and quite unwillingly, Harry rose to his feet, walking numbly towards Dumbledore. As he approached, Dumbledore caught sight of the look in his eyes; the same fear and confusion he himself felt. Finally, Harry was standing in front of Dumbledore.

"Through the door, Harry," Dumbledore said, gesturing after the other champions. He would have to deal with the other students before Harry. After the door clicked shut behind Harry, Dumbledore looked out at the students, whom were all staring at him avidly. "I would ask all of you to return to your dormitories immediately. Prefects, if you would." The prefects rose and started ushering the students out, though there was some mutinous muttering, especially from the Hufflepuffs.

"I told you, Professor," Severus said quietly as he glided over. "I told you that Potter would cross the age line, just like his father would have. I'm only surprised the Goblet accepted him."

"Severus," Dumbledore said tiredly, he really didn't need the Potion Master's hasty gloating right now. He looked for Ludo and Barty, only to realize that Ludo had already gone ahead to the champions. Shaking his head, Dumbledore turned to follow.

"Dumbly-dorr!" Madame Maxime said furiously, "what…"

"Madame Maxime," Dumbledore interrupted gently. "I'm sure that we can find out what has happened if we just step into the antechamber." He didn't really think so, but better have the inevitable shouting match out of hearing of the students still leaving the Hall. Madame Maxime nodded sharply, her eyes narrowed. As Dumbledore led the way to the antechamber, Karkaroff, Barty, Severus, and Minerva also fell in behind him.

Almost as soon as they entered the room, Fleur Delacour strode over, her eyes flashing. "Madame Maxime!" she called. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" Dumbledore sighed, he did so wish that Ludo knew when to wait before making an announcement of that nature, they were trying to prevent Harry competing.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?!" Madame Maxime said furiously.

"I was rather wondering that myself." Karkaroff said, his teeth bared slightly. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me that the host school got two champions. Or did I perhaps not read the rules closely enough?" Dumbledore tried to speak, but was cut off again.

"_C'est impossible_!" Madame Maxine shouted, her hand gripping Fleur's shoulder hard enough to make the poor girl wince.

"I was under the impression that your Age Line would keep the younger contestants out. Had we known otherwise, we would have brought a wider selection ourselves."

"It is no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," Severus said softly. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He's been crossing lines ever since he arrived here…"

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said, narrowing his eyes in warning. Severus went silent, though he continued to smile in a distinctly unhealthy fashion. Finally having some quiet, Dumbledore turned to Harry, bringing his Legilimency to bear. Harry seemed to sense it, as he shifted slightly. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, keeping his metal probe in Harry's mind to detect a lie, even though he knew that Harry hadn't done anything.

"No, sir," Harry responded. His mind showed no signs of deceit.

'As suspected,' Dumbledore thought, though he asked one more question just to be sure. "Did you ask an older student to put it for you?" Dumbledore continued, again ignoring Severus.

"No, sir," Harry repeated, again truthfully.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Dumbledore closed his eyes for a brief moment, willing his frustration away.

"He couldn't have crossed the Age Line," Minerva said sharply. "I am sure we can all agree on that…"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," Madame Maxime said. Dumbledore doubted this, but decided that diplomacy was the best course of action right now.

"It is possible, of course," Dumbledore said politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" Minerva, ever faithful, snapped. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, obviously not finished yet, "you are our-er-objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

'Please, please get him out of this,' Dumbledore thought. He had read the rulebook of course, but he didn't know it as well as Barty.

"We must follow the rules," Barty said coolly, ending Dumbledore's hopes, "and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Ludo, smiling around at everyone. Dumbledore had rarely felt more like smiling.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said furiously, glaring around. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire again, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions, it's only fair." Ludo shook his head still smiling.

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Ludo. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out, and it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament…"

"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Karkaroff roared. "After all, our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!" Dumbledore opened his mouth to assure Karkaroff that he had never intended this to happen, but Alastor beat him to the punch.

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," the ex-Auror growled as he slipped into the room. "You can't leave your champion now, he's got to compete. They've all got to compete, even Potter. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

"Convenient?" Karkaroff said, trying to sound dismissive, though his clenched fists indicated that he was nervous. "I don't know what you mean, old man."

"Don't you?" Alastor said coldly, glaring at Karkaroff with his magical eye. "It's very simple. Someone put Potter's name in the Goblet, knowing that if he came out, and it seems they made sure he would, that he would be forced to compete." Dumbledore had been thinking along the same lines himself, and believed he knew who was ultimately behind the act. The question was only how.

"Evidently, someone 'oo wanted to give 'Ogwarts to bites at ze apple." Madame Maxime huffed.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," Karkaroff said, nodding to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards…"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," Alastor growled. "But, funny thing, I don't hear him saying a word…"

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur Delacour asked, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our school's, ze thousand Galleons in prize money…"

"The chance to die a horrible death, especially for an underage wizard," Alastor interrupted, his magical eye swiveling to glare at Fleur. Silence filled the room, and Dumbledore wished Alastor hadn't been quite so… blunt.

"Moody, old man… what a thing to say…" Ludo said weakly after a moment, rubbing his forehead. Karkaroff scoffed.

"Well, of course, we all know _Professor_ Moody considers a morning wasted unless he's found at least six plots to murder him before lunchtime. Apparently he's now branching out to his students…"

"Imagining things, am I?" Alastor asked quietly, taking a step towards Karkaroff. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that cup…"

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Madame Maxime asked. Dumbledore knew she was obviously still upset, or she would have thought of the answer herself, she was a smart woman, after all.

"Because they tricked a powerful magical object!" Alastor hissed. "It would have taken a powerful Confundus Charm to bamboozle the goblet into forgetting that there are only three schools. They likely put Potter in under a fourth school, to guarantee that he came out." Dumbledore nodded, that was the obvious method.

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought," Karkaroff said, waving his hand dismissively. "And it is a very ingenious theory… though, of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll forgive us if we don't take you completely seriously…"

"It's my job to think like Dark Wizards, Karkaroff," Alastor said, taking another step forward. "As you should well know…"

"Alastor!" Dumbledore said warningly, this was neither the time nor the place to reveal the mistakes Karkaroff had made in his past. Alastor fell silent, but continued to smirk at Karkaroff, whose face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," Dumbledore said after a minute, sighing. "It seems to me, however, that we have little choice but to accept it. All four of these students have been chosen by the Goblet of Fire, all four are bound to compete."

"But Dumbly-dorr…"

"If you have an alternative, my dear Madam Maxime, I would be delighted to hear it." He actually hoped she did have something, but her frustrated silence indicated that she didn't.

"Well!" Ludo called, looking excited for some reason. "Shall we crack on, then? Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we Barty?"

"Oh, yes, the instructions." Barty stepped forward into the light. Again, Dumbledore was surprised at how tired he looked. There were dark shadows below his eyes that indicated he hadn't been sleeping well, and his skin looked papery. His voice remained strong, however.

"The first task will test your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in any wizard. The task will take place on November the twenty-fourth. You are only permitted to bring your wand, and are forbidden from asking or accepting any help from teachers." He paused to take a breath. "After the First Task, you will receive information about the second. Owing to the demanding nature of the tournament, all champions will be exempt from end of year tests."

"I think that's all, Barty," Dumbledore said, watching Barty with concern. What was wrong with him? "Are you sure you won't be staying at Hogwarts tonight?"

"I must get back to the Ministry," Barty said quickly, moving towards the door. "Busy times. I left young Weatherby in charge… must see how he's doing." He left, followed by Ludo, who seemed to be trying to get him to reconsider. Dumbledore wished the younger Head of Department the best, Barty could be so stubborn…

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you head up to bed," Dumbledore said after a moment as Fleur, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, and Viktor left. Harry clearly didn't feel like there was anything to celebrate, but he nodded. Cedric simply looked confused.

As the pair left, Dumbledore turned to Minerva and Severus.

"So, you're just going to let Potter get away with this blatant display…" Severus started.

"Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet," Dumbledore said tiredly, "and you know it, Severus. You really must try to overcome this baseless hatred, Harry is not like his father." Severus snorted, but didn't speak.

"Surely there must be some way to get Harry out of the Tournament!" Minerva said, her hands clenched hard enough to turn them white.

"I assure you, I will do everything in my power to get Harry out of this, but…"

Dumbledore knew Tom was behind all this somehow, and he knew that Tom's plans would not be so easily thwarted.

* * *

><p><strong>Cedric Diggory<strong>

'What just happened?' Cedric thought as he watched Harry out of the corner of his eye.

He had always thought of Harry as an honorable person. He remembered back in his fifth year, when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. So many people had suspected Harry, but the kid had never snapped. Instead, he had been the one to solve the mystery and catch the Heir. He was the bloody _Boy Who Lived_! Surely he had enough fame! Why did he need to steal Cedric's?

"So," Cedric said, trying to force his voice into its normal, friendly tone. "Seems like we're competing again."

"Yeah," the younger boy muttered, keeping his eyes firmly forward. Cedric would have thought he would have relaxed a bit now that he was out of sight of the professors, but it seemed he was keeping up the façade. For some reason, that angered Cedric more than the fact that Harry had somehow slipping into the Tournament.

"So… tell me," he said, stopping. Harry turned, blinking. "How did you get your name in the goblet?"

Cedric didn't know what he expected; maybe a furtive look around, a smirk, something. Instead, Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "Weren't you paying attention?" he hissed. "_I didn't_."

"Ah, okay," Cedric said as his own temper rose. 'You won, didn't you,' he wanted to snap. 'You got yourself in the Tournament, and you're not even being punished!' Instead, he forced another smile and turned to go back to the Hufflepuff Common Room.

As he walked, his emotions continued to rage. Ever since he had become Seeker on the Hufflepuff team, he had wanted to compete with Harry Potter, widely considered to be the best Seeker Hogwarts had seen since Charlie Weasley, maybe even better. Because their match had been interrupted by those horrible dementors, he didn't really count it as a fair competition. When Dumbledore had told the school there would be no Quidditch, Cedric had been saddened that he would never get his fair match.

But now… now that fate, or Harry, or someone had made it so that they would be competing again, all he could feel was anger. Cursing under his breath, Cedric slammed a fist against a pillar, closing his eyes and trying to center himself before facing his classmates.

Unbidden, the image of Harry as he entered the antechamber sprang to mind. He had looked so small… and scared.

Looking back weeks later, Cedric would recognize that this was the moment he started doubting that Harry had actually put his own name in the Goblet of Fire. For the moment, though, his anger and wounded pride refused to let him see Harry Potter as anything other than a glory-stealing _pig_.

Finally smoothing his face into its natural state, Cedric walked up to the patch of wall that hid the Common Room.

"Fairy Wings," he said quietly as he pressed his hand against the centermost block, which was slightly darker than the rest. The stone warmed under his hand, and after a moment the outline of a round door drew itself, humming, before crunching and swinging inwards.

Almost the entire Hufflepuff house was still awake, sitting around the various circular tables. They looked up as one when Cedric stepped through the door, before surging to their feet and trying to shout over each other.

"How did he get in…"

"They're expelling him, right…"

"What happened…"

"Please!" Cedric called, causing everyone to fall silent. "Please, one at a time."

Finally, Mark, one of Cedric's best friends, stepped forward. "How did Potter get his name in the goblet?" Everyone nodded; that seemed like a good place to start.

"We don't know," Cedric said as he moved carefully through the crowd, sitting at one of the recently vacated tables. "He keeps claiming that he didn't do it."

"Codswallop!" someone shouted. "If he didn't do it, then who did. Surely Dumbledore saw through that right away!" There were a lot of furious murmurs of agreement. Cedric simply sighed and shook his head.

"If he did, he didn't say anything," he said bitterly.

"You… you can't mean Potter got away with this!" Priscilla, another seventh year, gasped. Cedric nodded. "That's… that's…" she couldn't seem to come up with a word for her outrage.

"It doesn't really matter," Zacharias said. He raised his hand as everyone stared at him, shocked and offended. "What I'm saying is that Potter has no chance of winning. He's a bloody fourth year. Cedric will be wiping the floor with what's left of him by the end of the first task."

Several cold snickers greeted this declaration, but Zacharias' words stirred something in Cedric's heart. He pushed this aside, however, as Mark spoke up again.

"So, what does the _actual_ competition look like? Viktor Krum and that Fleur girl?"

"I don't really know, we didn't talk much," Cedric said, happy to get off the topic of Harry Potter. "We weren't told about the Tasks, either, just that the first would be taking place on November the twenty-fourth, and we'd only get a wand."

After a few minutes, most of the other Hufflepuffs started drifting off through the rounded tunnels that led to the dormitories. Mark, meanwhile, sat down at the same table as Cedric.

"Don't worry, Cedric," Mark said confidently. "Hogwarts is the best school of magic in Europe, and as its champion, you'll win this. We believe in you."

Cedric smiled. Ever since they had first met on the train before first year, Mark's optimism had pulled Cedric through some rough times. He was sure that it would pull him through again.

* * *

><p><strong>Ron Weasley<strong>

When Ron had promised himself that he wouldn't speak to Harry again until he admitted that he had put himself in the goblet somehow, the redhead hadn't reckoned on how lonely it would be. Somehow, he had equated the feeling of not talking with Hermione, which was painful, but bearable since it happened every other week, with not talking to Harry Potter, his best friend since before first year. It didn't help that Hermione seemed to be taking Harry's side in this whole affair, though she tried to hide it. Come to think of it, he understood a bit of what she had felt during the time he had been convinced that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers… or Peter Pettigrew. Ron still shuddered at the thought of a murderer sharing his _bed_!

Still, Ron thought, chewing on a bit of bacon as he looked up the table at Harry and Hermione, Harry still had the Quaffle at this point. If he were to just tell Ron how he'd done it and apologize for not thinking to mention it beforehand, Ron would be quite willing to talk to him again. Yes, it was Harry's decision…

"Just go talk to him," Ginny hissed, following his eyes. "I know you want to, even if you're too bloody thick to recognize it!"

"Shut up, Ginny," Ron muttered distractedly, glancing up as the post owls flocked into the Hall, He wasn't expecting anything, but he wondered if Harry had sent a return letter to whoever had written him. Probably Sirius, Ron didn't know of anyone else Harry owled who wasn't at Hogwarts. It was weird thinking that Sirius had wanted to talk to Harry and Ron didn't have any clue what it was about.

"I mean it, Ron!" Ginny continued. "Harry didn't put himself in the Goblet! You didn't see him the night it came out, you didn't hear him."

"Ginny, you worship the ground he walks on," Ron shot back. "Of course you're going to support him. That doesn't mean everyone else has to accept everything he says as Merlin's truth." Ginny huffed in frustration before sliding several seats over to talk to another third year girl. Ron rolled his eyes, he and Ginny butted heads all the time back home, so her words didn't bother him.

He found himself glad that it was Tuesday, since that meant he didn't have to take the long walk with Harry out to Hagrid's hut or the greenhouses. Inside, he could take alternate routes so as to avoid him.

As he wandered towards the Charms classroom, he watched a group of Hufflepuffs testing out those stupid badges that snake Malfoy had made, and he snorted in disgust. No matter what rift had developed between himself and Harry, Ron would never stoop to the level of accepting anything that git had a hand in, not after years of taunting and insulting Hermione's parentage. Just thinking about Malfoy made Ron seethe silently.

'Maybe something will happen at Snape's detention tonight,' Ron thought morosely. 'Maybe this can end…' He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

As he waited outside the Charms classroom, he saw Lavender and Parvati reading the Daily Prophet avidly, whispering to each other. Idly, Ron listened to what they were saying.

"… Never would have thought it," Parvati was giggling. "I mean, they've known each other ever since first year!"

"Don't you see, that's why it works!" Lavender said. "I mean, he grew up with the Muggles, didn't he? She's the first girl he met in our world."

Something about that statement caused a chill to flow through Ron. He pushed himself from the wall he was leaning against and wandered closer. The two girls glanced up at Ron, their giggles intensifying.

"Hey, Ron," Parvati said, grinning. "Did you know that Harry and Hermione are going out?"

Those words hit Ron like a punch to the gut.

"No," he croaked, pointing at the paper. "Is that what…"

"Here," Lavender said, handing him the paper and pointing out the article.

** Boy-Who-Lived Enters Triwizard Tournament!**

_After two centuries, the Triwizard Tournament has been resurrected once again, writes Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Special Correspondent. It was discontinued because of the number of champions who, for one reason or another, did not survive the grueling tasks. But this time, at least one champion is guaranteed to survive, since he has already withstood so much._

_ Ever since Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding world, first set foot in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he has been met with adoration and respect. Classmates looked up to him, teachers expected much of him, and everyone watched and waited for him to show them why he was the Boy-Who-Lived._

_ "It was a bit overwhelming at times," Harry confided in me. Still, the handsome young man persevered, supplementing his outstanding marks in the classroom with stunning displays of skill on the Quidditch pitch. Some students have gone so far as to say that he could play professionally, even at such a young age. At everything he set his mind too, Harry Potter excelled._

_ Still, something was missing. Harry found himself and his achievements insufficient to live up to his famous name and the expectations of those around him._

_ "I felt I had to do something," he said, idly rubbing the ugly scar that disfigures his otherwise charming face. "I couldn't simply be content to sit on my laurels, I had to go out and live up to my name."_

_ Many witches and wizards might not understand what drives Harry Potter. Surely having defeated the darkest wizard of all time is more than sufficient to prove oneself? But readers must remember that, until recently, Harry did not know just how much he meant to the Wizarding world. Hidden away after the brutal murder of his parents, he knew he was destined for something great, but didn't know what. It was only after coming to Hogwarts that he realized just how high the bar had been set._

_ So this is why he entered the Triwizard Tournament, this reporter asked. Harry nodded._

_ "The second I heard about the Tournament, I knew I had to compete," he said. "Only then could I know that I am actually worthy of the legend the people have built around me." When asked if he had thought about the danger, he nodded. "A bit, but it I'm not willing to take some risks, if I just hide behind others, then how can I be trusted in the future?"_

_ This reporter wondered where Harry got his seemingly limitless supply of strength and courage from, he smiled sadly. "I suppose I get my strength from my parents," he said, blinking back tears. "I remember little of them, but I know that they love me, even from beyond the grave." He chuckled slightly as the reporter turned away, respectful of his feelings. "Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I miss them, but I know they're still with me, even if I can't see them. I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament because they're watching over me. Without that faith, I don't know if I would have mustered the courage to enter the Tournament." Stunned by the depths of Harry's conviction, this reporter wondered if there was some other source of strength. After some searching, we found it._

_ Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl, who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school…_

Ron's eyes twitched as he skimmed the rest of the article. His mind was so scrambled by what he had read that he was only able to say one thing when he was finished.

"They spelled Krum's name wrong," he moaned, staring at the last line. "Look: 'Joining Harry in the Tournament are Flur Delacor and Victor Crum…' his name has Ks…"

"That's all you can think about?" Lavender asked, shocked. "What about Harry and Hermione?" Ron bit back a curse, he had been trying to forget that little detail. Furiously thrusting the paper back into the girl's hands, he stalked back to his previous position.

How could he have not seen it? Had it just started after Harry got into the Tournament? Was that why Hermione was so convinced he was innocent? Or was she in on the whole thing and simply covering for him. Still, he should have noticed something, some change…

Harry and Hermione chose that moment to show up, still talking quietly. Before anyone could ask them about the article (not that Ron wanted to,) Flitwick opened the door and ushered everyone inside.

Ron watched the pair of them as they sat down near the front of the room. Somehow, their every motion seemed different, more intimate. Ron growled under his breath.

'_Rita Skeeter exists to cause trouble_…' his mum's voice drifted through his head.

Blinking, Ron thought back about the article. He had been distracted by the thought of Harry and Hermione together, but now that he thought about it, some of the claims Rita Skeeter had made were bloody ridiculous. A boy admitting to crying, especially _Harry_? Impossible, especially since Ron had never heard Harry crying, even though they shared a dormitory. And Harry was smart, but he wasn't at Hermione's level when it came to class.

But Rita Skeeter knew how to put just enough truth into a story to make it hard to dispute. Harry was brilliant at Quidditch, and could probably play professionally if he wanted to. Well, maybe not now, but certainly later.

So was the bit about Harry and Hermione true?

As Flitwick finished explaining the days work, Ron considered his options. He could confront Hermione about the article, but that would likely lead to another argument, probably driving her away, which Ron really wanted to avoid at this point. No, probably the best idea was to simply wait and hope everything would work out.

Yeah right.

* * *

><p><strong>Charlie Weasley<strong>

Charlie was in a bad mood when he woke up the morning of the First Task. He had been up all night because the Hungarian Horntail had thrown a fit, nearly killing two of her handlers.

"I really don't envy the champion who gets that one," he muttered to his friend Jonathan as they walked around the clearing, making sure that the stands all had a Fire Repellant Charm in place.

"Yeah," Jonathan said, glancing back at the shaded area where the dragons were being kept. "We train for three years before even being allowed within a hundred feet of a dragon, and their sending kids up against them without even telling them beforehand? And one of them is only fourteen, for Merlin's sake!"

"Don't remind me," Charlie said, flinching at the thought of Harry being forced to face off with a nesting dragon. He had only met the boy recently, but had heard a lot about him from Ron. He didn't want him to get hurt.

"Sorry, mate" Jonathan said. "Forgot you knew him." He placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We'll just have to be vigilant, for all of them." Charlie nodded, his face grim.

After they had ensured that the arena was prepared, Charlie and Jonathan returned to where the other dragon keepers were eating and getting their assignments.

"… And I want three on the left, near the stands," George Erikson, the lead handler, was saying. "We'll have enough problems keeping the champions from getting killed without the spectators getting injured somehow. I know we have wards, but better safe than sorry."

"And the judges?" one of the others said. Mr. Erikson snorted.

"They've got Albus Dumbledore with them, they'll be fine." Everyone nodded sagely at that, it was a well-known fact that Albus Dumbledore could do almost anything.

After a moment, Mr. Erikson glanced at his watch. "Get the Short-Snout ready, she's up first. The champions will be arriving soon, and the rest of the student's aren't far behind. Let's get this over with."

Charlie nodded grimly and followed the majority of his companions into the dragon shelter. The four, spaced as far apart as possible, still were glowering at each other before noticing the handlers. Walking carefully towards the blue dragon, the dragon keepers drew their wands.

"Stunners on three," Charlie said. "One, two, three!"

"STUPEFY!" everyone called together. With a final roar, the Short-Snout fell, causing the others to shift nervously. After a moment, several of the dragon handlers, led by Jonathan, stepped forward and started carefully collecting the eggs.

"Ready, we've set them up," Jonathan called.

"Okay, everyone be ready, we're waking her up," Charlie said.

"Careful, everyone. She can see the eggs, so she'll go to them, but she'll trample anyone in her way."

The second the dragon was revived, she started screeching in rage. Flames boiled in her mouth as she charged towards the nest where her eggs, along with the golden one the champions would have to claim, were nestled. Cursing, Charlie threw up a shield and covered his eyes. Fortunately, the mother was more interested in reaching her eggs than killing those who had wronged her. Crouching over them protectively, she hissed and glared around.

"Well, that's that out of the way," Mr. Erikson said, rubbing his forehead. "We just have to do it three more bloody times."

In the distance, the doors of the school opened, and the sound of countless voices started drawing closer. Charlie glanced at his watch; the First Task was about to begin.

'Let's hope for the best,' he thought grimly, thinking about poor Harry, probably already in the tent. Charlie had a sudden, mad desire to rush over and give him some ideas for how to complete the impossible task he had been set. The kid was _fourteen_!

He was interrupted, however, by the gasps and screams as the first students started making their way into the stands and catching sight of the dragon crouching in the center of the clearing. After several minutes of jostling, during which the Short-Snout glared suspiciously at the noisy crowd, everyone was settled.

"Welcome, all, to the First Task!" Ludo Bagman shouted, his magically magnified voice booming and causing the dragon to twitch. "As you can clearly see, the dragon in the center of the clearing is the challenge, along with three more waiting in the wings! If you look carefully, you will see that one of the eggs is made of gold. That is the champions' objective: get that egg, without harming the others… or being harmed themselves." Charlie's eyes narrowed, normally Bagman's bubbly nature didn't bother him much, but dragons were not something to joke about. "Without further ado, we present our first champion… Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!"

A magical whistle blew, and a tall, handsome young man stepped out of the champions' tent. He simply stood for a long moment, staring at the massive dragon still crouching in the center of the clearing. Finally, he shook his head and raised his wand.

The Short-Snout roared at the same time Cedric shouted his spell, so it wasn't until Charlie saw a nearby rock morph into a large Labrador that he understood what the champion was attempting.

"This isn't going to end well," he muttered to Jonathan as the dog was ushered towards the dragon. "These girls aren't hungry, they're on the defensive. It'll only pay more attention to the dog so long as it's closer to the eggs." The other man nodded grimly, readying his wand.

Cedric and his dog dodged in and out, retreating as the Short-Snout turned to react to each of them. Charlie was on edge throughout the entire dance, especially since Bagman was yelling things like "Narrow miss there!" and "Pity it didn't work!" in a voice that was far too excited for Charlie's tastes.

Finally, however, as the dragon reared up, shooting a blast of flame at the Labrador Cedric took his chance and darted in, moving with speed and grace.

'Must be a Quidditch player, probably a Seeker,' Charlie thought with interest as the dog sprinted in one last time, keeping the dragon's attention for the few crucial seconds it took the champion to grab the egg.

However, he must have made a noise, because the dragon turned to him, her eyes shining with ire. As Cedric desperately backpedaled, a jet of flame shot from the dragon's nostril. He was able to dodge the worst of it, but the side of his face was caught in the blast, causing him to stumble. The dragon advanced, but Cedric was able to roll out of range.

"Restrain her, restrain her, it's over!" Mr. Erikson shouted, rushing forward, followed by the others.

"Well done, well done!" Bagman shouted. "A bit unfortunate about the injury, but that should be fixable! Well, Cedric, let's see your scores!"

Charlie was of the opinion that the burn should be treated immediately, but Cedric waved him off and looked at the judges, lined up behind a golden table.

Madame Maxime went first, shooting a seven out of her wand. Both Dumbledore and Mr. Crouch mirrored her, Bagman gave him an eight, and Karkaroff followed the other judges' lead with a seven.

"36, a fine score, a fine score!" Bagman shouted over the cheers. "Now you should probably go get your face looked at while we get ready for the next champion!" Charlie and the others carefully lured the Welsh Green out onto the field and gestured to Bagman that they were ready.

"Now, I present the Beauxbaton's champion, the lovely Fleur Delacour!" Bagman shouted over the magical whistle, and a silver-haired girl stepped out of the tent. She looked like she was about to faint at the sight of the dragon, but she steeled herself and raised her wand.

"What's she up to?" Charlie muttered as she started singing quietly, waving her wand in slow, gentle arcs.

For a moment, it looked like she wasn't accomplishing anything. Finally, however, the dragon started nodding, snorting on occasion.

"Mesmerizaton?" Jonathan muttered. "I thought that didn't work on dragons."

"It does if you're really good at it," Charlie said, watching the girl slowly approach, keeping up her spell. The dragon suddenly shook its head, roaring at her and driving her a few steps back.

"Oh, nearly!" Bagman shouted over the cries of the crowd.

Undaunted, Fleur kept going, and the dragon started going to sleep again. Once more, she started slowly approaching, this time without resistance.

'Please don't be faking, please don't be faking…' Charlie chanted; if the Welsh Green was just pretending, the dragon keepers would never get to Fleur in time. It seemed, however, that the dragon really was asleep, as Fleur entered its biting range and carefully made her way towards the nest.

Suddenly, the dragon snorted in its sleep and shot a jet of fire from its nose, lighting the poor girls robes on fire. It took her half a second to realize that she was burning, and she let out a short scream.

The dragon keepers surged forward as the Welsh started shaking its head, but Fleur was able to spray some water on herself and start the mesmerizaton again, driving the dragon back into slumberland. Finally, she grabbed the golden egg and retreated.

"That was quite incredible!" Bagman cried. "Truly spectacular! Well, shall we see your score, Miss Delacour?"

Predictably, Madame Maxime gave her student a flawless ten. Bagman and Mr. Crouch gave eights, while Dumbledore gave a nine. Karkaroff paused for a moment before giving her a four, prompting some furious mutters from the crowd. Fleur didn't argue, however, simply retreating to the stands and sitting down, looking relieved to get out of the spotlight.

"Now, please bring your hands together for Viktor Krum of Durmstrang!" Bagman roared as the Chinese Fireball shot a cloud of fire into the air.

The Quidditch star slouched out of the tent, his eyes on the dragon. After a long moment of staring, he raised his wand, braced it with his off hand, and aimed carefully.

'He's not going to…' Charlie thought before Krum breathed a spell, shooting a jet of light at the dragon's face, which bounced off the scales.

Finally, on the fourth attempt, the spell slammed into the Fireball's eye, prompting it to release an unearthly shriek of rage and agony, rearing back.

"Daring!" Bagman shouted as Krum started forward, dodging the rocks that the thrashing dragon was kicking up. "Quite daring! I think he's got it!"

"But at what cost?" Jonathan muttered in despair at the sight of the shattered dragon eggs.

"Well, let's see how you did, score wise!" Bagman called.

A ten from Karkaroff (surprise, surprise) two eights from Crouch and Dumbledore, and two sevens from Bagman and Madame Maxime, leaving Krum with 40.

"And now, for young Harry Potter! Wish him luck, he's going to need it!"

Despite the cheering, the tension in the air was palpable as Harry stepped out, looking so small in comparison to the massive, spiked Hungarian Horntail. Widely considered the most vicious and dangerous of dragons, nesting Horntails were known to kill anything that so much as looked at their eggs. This was going to get ugly.

"_Accio Golden Egg_!" Harry shouted. Nothing happened, much to Charlie's discomfort.

"That bastard sounds way too happy about all this," he muttered as Bagman admonished Harry. The boy seemed to share Charlie's opinion, glaring around before pointing his wand back at the castle.

"_Accio Firebolt_!"

"Awesome, didn't your brothers say he was a great flyer?" Jonathan muttered. Charlie nodded weakly; even in the air, he didn't see how Harry could get that egg. The broom arrived, and Harry mounted it, taking a deep breath.

"_Accio egg!_"

'_What the hell is that idiot thinking?_' Charlie wanted to scream as the Horntail roared in displeasure. Separating a mother dragon from her eggs was the best way to piss her off and make her more likely to come after you with a vengeance, especially if the eggs were spread out, meaning she couldn't defend them all at once. He desperately looked to Mr. Erikson for permission to intervene, but only got a small shake of the head. He looked back as Harry kept summoning eggs.

Finally, the Horntail had enough. It lunged forward, roaring and spewing flames. Harry, however, was already soaring into the air, dodging jets as he went.

"He's a damn good flyer, but I don't know how long he can keep this up!" Jonathan muttered, gripping his wand tight enough to turn the knuckles white. Charlie couldn't bring himself to speak, simply watching the pair, boy and dragon, dance through the air.

It was over a few seconds later. Harry launched a trio of spells, badly damaging the Horntail's wing. Screaming in agony, it crashed into a tree, dislocating its other wing.

"Get over there, get over there!" Mr. Erikson shouted, raising his wand.

It took the entire group nearly fifteen minutes to restrain the wounded dragon, so Charlie missed Harry's scores, but they should have been good. He couldn't even bring himself to be annoyed that Harry had hurt the Horntail this badly, he was just relieved that the boy was all right.

"Kid's got power," Jonathan muttered, staring at the deep wounds in the Horntail's wings. "Though I guess he is the Boy-Who-Lived."

Charlie thought back to the short time he had spent with Harry and shook his head. He had gotten the impression that Harry was a normal kid with a famous name, but maybe there was more to him than that.

Anyone who could take on a dragon and win deserved an immense amount of respect.

* * *

><p><strong>Poppy Pomfrey<strong>

"… and that's what happened," Susan Bones said nervously as Poppy glared at her. The fourth year was sitting on the edge of her bed, holding out a badly burnt arm, the result of a failed potion. The matron huffed.

"Miss Bones, I know that Professor Snape is not always the most patient teacher, but please follow his instructions so that this sort of thing doesn't happen."

As the Hufflepuff nodded sheepishly, Poppy started running her wand along the arm. It didn't look like the nerves had been too badly damaged, which was good. A general healing potion and a burn gel should be sufficient to cure the injury. Poppy just wished students were more careful so that she didn't have to patch them up as much as she did.

Still, she mused as the girl left, today had been a fairly good day as far as injuries went. Miss Bones was only the second person to show up, and neither injury had been particularly severe.

No sooner had she thought this when the door opened and Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley the youngest entered, supporting an unconscious Mr. Potter between them.

"Not again…" Poppy muttered as she rushed over. "Put him here, what happened to him this time?" She had been hoping that Mr. Potter would avoid the Hospital Wing this year, though her hopes hadn't been high. Still, to see him dragged in, unconscious... and it wasn't even Christmas yet...

"We don't know," Mr. Weasley said, his voice shaking slightly. "Me and Hermione were talking, and suddenly Harry collapsed, screaming." Poppy looked at Miss Granger, who shook her head, indicating that she didn't have anything to add.

Muttering under her breath, Poppy reached down and opened the boy's eyes, but jerked back at what she saw. She had been expecting the green eyes to be dim, but instead, they were shining a bright blue.

"How is this possible…" she whispered, staring into the light. "Stay here!" she said, rushing into her office and digging through a cupboard for one of the many magical instruments that she had never thought she would need when she accepted her position at Hogwarts. Finally finding what she was looking for, she rushed back to Mr. Potter's side and wrapped the cloth around his head.

"What's that?" Miss Granger asked, wringing her hands.

"It's a magic detector," Poppy said grimly. "It can sniff out curses, flaws in magical channeling, almost any potential problem that is solely caused by magic. Let's hope that it can find out what's happened." After adjusting it, she turned to the pair, who flinched. "Now, tell me _exactly_ what happened. The slightest detail could be important."

"There's really not much to say," Mr. Weasley said nervously. "We were just… taking a walk, and were going back to the common room when Harry suddenly collapsed."

It was painfully obvious that they were hiding something, but Poppy thought she would check the reading before calling their bluff, so she turned and unwrapped the detector and placed it on a parchment. After a moment, she removed it and wrapped it around Mr. Potter's head again before studying the marks it had left behind.

It was immediately obvious that something was very wrong. The spiky lines were all over the parchment, indicating that Mr. Potter had magic flowing all throughout his body; more magic than was healthy. It seemed there was so much it have overwhelmed his system and knocked him out.

This was all guesswork, however, as Poppy had never seen or heard of anything like this.

As she stared at the parchment, a soft moan drifted through the ward. Glancing up, she saw Mr. Potter stir.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Miss Granger call, "I think he's waking up! Harry!"

The boy jerked and started blinking rapidly. The glow in his eyes had faded, leaving him looking perfectly normal, if a bit disoriented. Mr. Weasley gave him his glasses, asking if he was alright.

"Mr. Potter, refrain from moving!" Poppy called as he tried to get up.

"I'm fine," he said immediately.

'Proud little…' Poppy thought in frustration as she pushed him back down. "You are fine when I say you are fine, not before!" she snapped, running a quick diagnosis with her wand. He didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"But…" Mr. Potter started, still trying to get up.

"Students do not collapse for no reason, Mr. Potter," Poppy said coldly as she unwrapped the detector. "What caused this?"

"I think you should tell her, Harry," Miss Granger said after a moment, sounding determined. "If you don't, I will."

Mr. Potter glared at her for a moment before speaking. "I don't know what it is, but it started this summer, at the Quidditch World Cup."

"And I am just now hearing about it?" Poppy asked. 'Why must children foolishly assume that they have to keep everything to themselves!' she raged.

"It wasn't that bad before, a few nightmares, nothing to worry about," Mr. Potter said defensively, though he sounded nervous.

"And the glowing?" Miss Granger said. It seemed to have been a point of contention between the two of them, and Poppy could only wish that Miss Granger had won, she seemed the much more rational of the pair.

"Didn't hurt me," Mr. Potter shot back, glowering at her again.

"You still should have come to see me," Poppy hissed, shaking her finger. "It could have been, and seems to be, the beginning stages of something much more serious."

"Look, how bad could it…" Mr. Potter started.

"Do you know what this is, Mr. Potter?" Poppy asked, shaking the detector in his face. He shook his head, leaning back slightly, but Poppy was too annoyed to care. "It's meant to detect magical attacks. It certainly showed you were being affected by something incredibly powerful, more powerful than any curse I've ever seen before."

"How do you know it's a curse?" Mr. Potter asked. "Surely it would have hurt me before now if it was."

Poppy thought about all the slow acting curses that she knew of, wondering which of them was the most likely cause. "Perhaps, perhaps not," she said. "Now, Mr. Potter. Did anything happen when you were unconscious? Tell me, it could be vitally important."

She could tell that he was considering not telling her the truth, so she glared at him until he seemed to relent.

"I… saw a vision, or a memory, I'm not sure," he said finally. "There were two people talking about oppression, or something, I didn't really understand."

"And who were these people, Mr. Potter?" Poppy asked quietly.

"One's name was Anders," Harry said. "At the World Cup, Ron, Hermione and myself found his body, and it looked like him. The other… well, Anders said his name was Justice."

"Interesting…" Poppy said slowly, her thoughts racing. "I heard about the body being found, apparently he is baffling experts at Saint Mungo's." She switched her gaze back to Harry. "Have you had any other visions?"

"Just some voices, during my sleep, nothing that made much sense."

Poppy stayed silent for a long time. "Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I have no idea what has happened to you," she said finally. "And I have been treating students for more than two decades." She pointed her wand at him, trying one last scan before shaking her head. "You can go, _for now_, but I want you to return here in a week, or immediately if something else happens."

As she watched the boy leave, she made a note to talk to Minerva, to make sure that the boy didn't _conveniently_ forget to show up.

* * *

><p><strong>Fleur Delacour<strong>

_ * Italics are French_

Fleur stepped down from the carriage and set off towards the Quidditch field, where she and the other champions would be getting information about the final task. She had never been a big fan of the sport herself, and desperately hoped the final task had nothing to do with flying, since it was the one thing she was worse at than swimming. Besides, from what she'd heard all the other champions were Seekers, so they were probably very good with brooms, so it would be quite unfair.

"Ah, it's good to see you," Mr. Bagman said energetically when she arrived at the center of a mass of hedges that had been growing all over the field. Viktor Krum was already there, simply standing and looking grim as he always did. "Did you happen to see Harry and Cedric on your way?"

"I'm afraid not, Meester Bagman," Fleur said.

"Well, I do hope they get here soon, this is going to be an exciting task!" Bagman said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Fleur saw Viktor's shoulders tense slightly, and followed his eyes to the edge of the pitch, where two figures were standing.

"Over here!" Mr. Bagman shouted, waving his hand. The two, clearly Cedric and Harry, quickly scrambled over the hedges to join the others. Fleur smiled slightly at Harry, she was still grateful to him for saving her sister when she could not.

"So, what do you think?" Bagman asked after a few moments. "They'll be twenty feet by the time Hagrid's done with them." Neither Harry nor Cedric seemed particularly happy about this, judging by the scowls on their faces. Mr. Bagman just laughed. "Don't worry, they'll be gotten rid of after the Task's over; you'll have your Quidditch pitch back, good as new." He rubbed his hands together. "Now, what do you think these hedges are for?"

"Maze?" Viktor grunted. Was it just Fleur, or did he seem more… grim than usual? He was certainly keeping his eye on Harry.

"Yes!" Bagman said happily. "The Triwizard Cup will be right here, in the center of the maze, and the first champion to touch it will receive full marks, which, as you know, will guarantee a victory. The maze will have some enchantments and creatures, but other than that, it should be very straightforward, don't you think?" Somehow, Fleur felt that it wouldn't be nearly that simple, but she nodded politely.

"The order you enter in will be based on points, so you two go first, the Mr. Krum, then Miss Delacour." He looked around. "Well, that's it, so lets get inside, it's quite chilly, don't you think?"

Everyone nodded, but as Fleur left the field, she realized she didn't feel like going back just yet. Instead, she decided she'd take a short walk around the grounds. Once she had learned to wear a cloak rather than just her robes, Fleur had found that she actually sort of liked the temperature; it was so much hotter in France that the cool was nice.

As Fleur looked up at the shadowy castle, she realized that the climate was not the only thing that had grown upon her. When she had first come to Hogwarts, all she had seen was a dirty, musky castle that felt like it hadn't been cleaned in centuries. And she still could see that, but she also noticed something else. While Beauxbatons palace felt first and foremost like a school, Hogwarts seemed to be more like... like a home. The difference was hard to describe, but it was there.

Fleur's thoughts drifted to the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. When she had heard that the Tournament was being resurrected, she had decided to enter to prove, once and for all, that she was more than a pretty face, more than her veela blood.

She snorted quietly, thinking about how well that was working out. She had never liked water much since she had almost drowned when she was six, and being forced to search for her sister at the bottom of a lake had been even worse. The combined fears had probably been what caused her to let her guard down long enough for that swarm of grindylows to grab her. Everyone must think she was completely useless now.

'Still,' a quiet voice said in the back of her head. 'You did survive a dragon, didn't you?' She smiled, perhaps she hadn't nearly killed it like Harry had, but at least she hadn't almost gotten roasted or caused it to squash half its eggs. She had done well there, and now that she was out of the water, she should do better in the final task.

Suddenly, she caught sight of flashes of light from the edge of the dark forest. Worried, she turned and started jogging towards them. As she came closer, she recognized the voice of Harry, desperately shouting spells.

"Get the body! NOW!" he screamed to another figure that Fleur recognized as Viktor. She wondered briefly what the two of them had been doing over here before the words caught up with her.

'Body?' she wondered. Raising her voice, she shouted to Viktor, "What is going on?"

"Get back, get back!" Harry screamed again, fear and panic clouding his voice as he stumbled backwards, still firing spells into the forest. Fleur thought she saw something move briefly, and Harry shifted his aim in that direction.

She was distracted by the sight of Viktor staggering towards her, trying to keep his head down and levitate a… a body… at the same time.

Fleur felt the blood leave her face. "Who is zat?" she stammered. "What is happening?"

"I don't know! I don't know vat is going on!" Viktor cried, sounding even worse than Harry.

"Someone's trying to kill us, that's what!" Harry snapped, dashing over to the pair of them. "We need to get to cover!" His eyes seemed to be shining slightly, and they were more blue than green. Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus on the matter at hand.

"Ze carriage!" she cried, pointing. "Madame Maxime will know what to do!" Harry jerked his head, still casting into the trees. The trio dashed back to the carriage and Fleur threw the door open.

"_What's happening_?" Alain asked, watching in shock as Viktor guided the body through the door while Harry kept covering them. Now that there was enough light, Fleur recognized the body as being Mr. Crouch, one of the British Ministry leaders.

"'_Arry and Krum were attacked_!" Fleur said as Harry finally ducked into the carriage. "_This man was killed! Where is Madame Maxime_?"

The headmistress stepped out of her chamber, looking around. "_I'm here_!" she called before noticing Harry and Viktor. "What has happened?" she asked in English.

"There's someone out there!" Harry cried. "They killed Mr. Crouch! Killing Curse!"

The blood drained from Fleur's face at those words. She had learned about the Killing Curse just last year, and how it was forbidden by every law in the Wizarding World. That someone would dare use it, on the grounds of a school…

Madame Maxime looked worried as well, but she squared her shoulders and drew her wand. "Stay here, all of you!" she called as she strode past Harry and left.

"_Be careful, Madame Maxime_!" Fleur called desperately as her headmistress vanished from sight. The other students were whispering worriedly to each other while Harry and Viktor looked around awkwardly. Poor Viktor looked like he wanted to put the filthy body he was levitating down, but couldn't bring himself to dirty the floor. Fleur shook her head and focused on the fourteen-year-old wizard. "'Arry, what is going on?"

"Just what I said to Madame Maxime," Harry muttered, looking tired. "We were talking, and then Mr. Crouch came out of the forest, babbling, saying he needed to talk to Dumbledore." He sighed, looking down at his wand for a moment before slipping it away. "So I levitated him, since he didn't seem to be able to walk himself. We only got a short distance before someone used the Killing Curse on him."

"Vhy?" Viktor asked nervously, still holding up the body. "Vhy would someone want to kill this… Mr. Crouch."

Harry simply stared at Viktor for a long moment, seeming to consider some options. Finally, he spoke up. "I don't know." Somehow, Fleur could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful, but she decided she _really _didn't want to know what would drive someone to kill.

After a few minutes of silence, the doors opened again, causing everyone to jerk, but it was only Madame Maxime, returning with Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and the creepy man with the weird eye who had theorized that Harry had been put in the Tournament so he would die.

"_Everyone, return to your rooms immediately_," Madame Maxime said as the other teachers started talking to Harry and Viktor. Everyone complied, but Fleur grabbed her best friend Maria's wrist and nodded towards her room, which was closest. They slipped in and left the door slightly ajar so they could hear what was going on.

Harry told his story once again, and still Fleur got the impression that he was leaving something out. Nothing vital, maybe, but something nonetheless. No one else seemed to notice, however.

"Well done, Potter," the creepy man growled when Harry was done. "Most people in your position would have frozen up, panicked. You kept a cool head and kept safe. Very good." Harry shuffled his feet slightly.

"Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have been able to save the person who seemed to know what was going on," Professor Karkaroff said snidely.

"_What was he supposed to have done?_" Maria whispered fiercely, glaring through the crack at the Durmstrang headmaster. Fleur smiled slightly, remembering how Maria had cursed up a storm after the First Task when Professor Karkaroff had given her an unfair score. At the time, Fleur had just been happy to be alive.

"I didn't have time!" Harry said. "It was only through luck that I even saw the curse coming!"

"We know, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said soothingly. "I'm sure Igor was simply worried, and spoke before he thought." There was a short pause before Professor Dumbledore turned to the creepy man. "Alastor, please go search the grounds for our assassin; be careful."

"Will do, Dumbledore," the man… Alastor something, said as he drew his wand and left the carriage.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be taking my champion back to the ship," Professor Karkaroff said. Professor Dumbledore and Madame Maxime nodded, and the pair also left.

A long silence filled the carriage. "My apologies that this happened, Madame Maxime," Professor Dumbledore said, bowing slightly. "And my thanks for granting Harry and Mr. Krum shelter."

"You would have done ze same thing, Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime said. "But I worry for my pupils, now zat an assassin has proven able to sneak into ze grounds." Fleur and Maria glanced at each other, smiling slightly. She may not always show it, but Madame Maxime loved her students and put their safety first.

"I assure you, I will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of everyone within these walls, Madame Maxime," Professor Dumbledore said. "We should trouble you and your students no longer, I'll deal with this." Madame Maxime nodded, and Professor Dumbledore gestured Harry to follow him after he used the cloth he had conjured to wrap Mr. Crouch's body.

"_What now, Fleur?_" Maria asked after a moment of silence, watching Madame Maxime sigh and return to her room.

"_We wait and see, not much else to do_," Fleur said, patting her friend on the shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>Viktor Krum<strong>

"Ladies and gentlemen! In five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium at this time."

Krum looked up at Professor Dumbledore's words before rising silently and walking down the Slytherin table towards the doors of the Great Hall. He distantly saw Professor Karkaroff leading the other Durmstrang students in applauding him, but kept his gaze forward.

As he walked down towards the Task, he was glad that it was taking place in a Quidditch pitch; he could pretend this was just another big game that he was going to be playing. He found himself wishing that some of his teammates from the Bulgarian team had been able to come. Not that he wasn't happy to see his family, but he did miss his friends.

Fleur Delacour was murmuring under her breath, but since Krum didn't speak French, he didn't know what she was saying. Both Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory looked lost in thought. They were all ready for what was to come.

Krum knew he had the most experience, Professor Karkaroff had put his students through a stringent training process before accepting their request to join the Triwizard party. Still, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory were not going to make it easy, and despite her failures in the lake, the fact that Fleur Delacour had mesmerized a dragon marked her as significant competition. He would have to push himself as hard as he could to win.

"Alright, everyone!" Mr. Bagman cried when the four champions were assembled in front of the maze. "You've all done really well to get here. The rules of this task haven't changed from last month: get to the center of the maze, touch the cup, and you win. Good luck, and have fun while you're at it!" He gestured to several Hogwarts professors standing nearby, all wearing an orange star somewhere on their uniform. "These are our patrollers. If you get into trouble that you can't get out of yourself, send up red sparks, and one of them will come to collect you."

Krum didn't even want to think about what Professor Karkaroff would say if he was forced to do that, so he simply jerked his head. Mr. Bagman smiled around before gesturing the rescue crew to spread out. Silence fell as the four waited for the stands to fill; Harry Potter had bowed his head, Fleur Delacour was tracing her wand's hilt with a finger, thinking, and Cedric Diggory was scanning the crowd with his eyes, probably looking for his family. Krum wondered where Hermione was, before reminding himself firmly that she would be supporting Harry, not him.

Finally, it was time, and Mr. Bagman raised his voice over the cheering crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!" He turned dramatically to Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory. "Harry, Cedric, are you ready?"

"I am," they both said, their wands drawn and ready.

"Then three…two…one…GO!"

Krum watched the pair sprint into the maze before stepping up to where they had been standing. A minute later, Mr. Bagman looked at him.

"Are you ready, Krum?"

"I am." Mr. Bagman smiled and gestured for the whistle to blow. Krum didn't look back as he ducked into the maze. Immediately, an oppressive silence fell over the Krum's world. He pushed his unease aside, casting a Point Me to check which way he should go at the first fork, finally choosing left.

It wasn't long before he reached his first challenge. A dark mist was rising from the ground ahead of him, shot with motes of red light. Krum shook his head, this was a basic Fear Curse, so easy he could have cast it himself since third year. Surely they could come up with something better than that. He dispelled it with a muttered word and continued on.

Several other minor curses and a nest of doxies later, Krum was beginning to wonder what he had been so worried about. There was nothing in here that seemed remotely threatening.

Suddenly, Fleur screamed at the top of her lungs from just behind him. Krum paused for a long moment. On the one hand, he really shouldn't be helping the competition, but she was probably only fifty meters behind him. It would take less than twenty seconds to check if she was all right.

With a muttered curse, Krum turned around. He wasn't Karkaroff; he would follow his own path.

He saw Fleur crumpled against a hedge, just past the Disorientation Mist that he, and it seemed she as well, had pushed aside. She wasn't moving.

"Fleur?" he called quietly, taking a step closer.

Some sixth sense kicked in, and he turned towards the hedge, noting something sticking through it. He was about to raise his wand when something struck him in the stomach.

A gentle warmth engulfed him, like when Hermione had held his hand at the Yule Ball, only better. He smiled, simply basking in the warmth.

"_Move on, find Cedric Diggory_," a voice said to him, and he nodded blindly before running off tirelessly. He pierced several more obstacles, desperately searching for Cedric Diggory, as the warmth commanded. Finally, he saw the young man jogging ahead of him.

"_Kill him_."

"Huh?" a doubtful voice said. "Why?"

"_Do it_." Krum found himself raising his wand as he trotted forward..

"I don't want… to kill him…" the other voice said desperately, trying to push his wand back down.

"_Two words. Avada Kedavra_."

"I will… not… be a… murderer…"

"_Then simply stop him_."

"_Crucio!_" Krum heard himself say, watching the other boy fall to the grass and writhe in pain. This was wrong, he had to stop it, but everything was so warm…

Suddenly, a blast of blue light smashed into him, and everything went black. He had only one more coherent thought.

'What have I done?'

AN: Again, sorry this took so long, I'll try to be better in the future.

And since I forgot to mention it last time, this story now has an awesome beta, FreelanceBum! Please give him a big round of applause.

Review Response:

raw666: Harry might be able to kill dementors, and he might not, I'm not telling (yet).

Lousy Poet Automaton: Yes, Harry's still a horcrux, and the implications will get explored later on.

Darksnider05: Your vote has been noted.

Skelo: I'll keep going, sorry it's taking time.

narutofan020: Now that I have a beta, grammar mistakes should decrease. Glad you still like the story.

ncl3: Thanks for your input.

Andrew MacKenzie: Thanks, Commander, glad to know you like my story.

Chou ni Natte: Is it just me, or is the system becoming harder to use? Anyways, thanks for the review, and I agree about Harry and Justice, they just seem to fit.

Danget the critic: Everyone's been asking for major changes, and it's taken some time to set them up, but they're beginning.

DarkTiger340: Thanks for the review, and I'll count your vote.

DragonGolem: Thank you

george17: I'm sorry you feel that way and I'm sad to see you go. If you ever choose to write a story, you can use mine as a model for what not to do.


	13. The Unforeseen Attack

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and thank my beta FreelanceBum for the decrease in silly errors.

Chapter 11: The Unforeseen Attack

Uncle Vernon's face purpled as he glowered at the smiling woman. Aunt Petunia gasped and covered her mouth while Dudley's hands flew to his fat bottom. Harry's eyes merely narrowed.

'Why do I have a very bad feeling about this?' he asked Justice grimly.

'Because you are an intelligent young man,' Justice said.

"Look," Uncle Vernon growled when he found his voice. "We've taken the boy, we don't want any–"

"Yes, well, I'm afraid there's been a change of plans," Umbridge said, her sickeningly sweet voice laced with cold steel. "You see, due to… recent events… Mr. Potter has been deemed–"

"What's he done this time?!" Uncle Vernon hissed, his beady eyes flicking around Privet Drive, obviously nervous that the neighbors would be watching and start asking questions.

"That is unimportant," Umbridge said. "What is important is that I have an order from the Ministry that you are no longer fit to be the guardians of Harry Potter, and I am here to take him away immediately."

She obviously thought that Uncle Vernon would argue about this, but the fearful look on his face faded as she said these words. "Wait, you're taking him away?" Harry's blood chilled at the calculating tone of Uncle Vernon's voice.

"I am," Umbridge said. "There is nothing–"

"There's nothing to say," Uncle Vernon said, a smirk slowly spreading as he shoved Harry towards her. "Take him, he's all yours. May he never darken our doorstep again." With that, he gestured Aunt Petunia and Dudley to go into the house.

At these words, Harry got the feeling that something very important had just broken.

Umbridge blinked before smiling again. "Thank you for seeing reason, Mr. Dursley. If we both have our way, neither of us will see the other again." She turned to Harry. "Come, Mr. Potter, get in the car."

Harry glanced back at Uncle Vernon, who paused on the doorstep and waved mockingly at Harry before snapping it shut.

"Well, Mr. Potter, get in the car," Umbridge said again, her lips widening into a smirk as she gestured towards the vehicle.

"I think I'll pass, thanks," Harry said, grabbing the handle of his trunk.

"Mr. Potter, that was not a request," Umbridge said, her smile fading. "By the order of the Ministry of Magic, get in the car. Now."

"How do I know you actually work for the Ministry?" Harry asked, his eyes flying around the neighborhood. He had no friends here, and he had no means of contacting or reaching Dumbledore or the Weasleys. "You could be working for Voldemort, couldn't you?"

"_He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ is dead, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said coldly. "All his followers were rounded up after his fall. You have nothing to fear."

"He's not dead, and most of the Death Eaters bribed their way out of Azkaban," Harry shot back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going,"

'Where?' Justice asked quietly.

'I was hoping you'd have some idea!' Harry thought.

"Mr. Potter, please stop this childish delusion and get in the car!" Umbridge snapped. "If you do not, you will be in direct violation of the law, and we will be forced to arrest you."

"Not on a street surrounded by Muggles, you won't," Harry said. "I'd be surprised if several of them haven't called the police already." That was a lie, Umbridge was far too well dressed to attract suspicion on Privet Drive, but hopefully she didn't know that.

Umbridge simply smiled as she raised her clipboard, showing off an official-looking piece of paper. "This is a legal document which places you under our guardianship, Mr. Potter. The Muggle police will be forced to allow us to leave with you, and will all conveniently forget what happened afterwards."

'I strongly recommend not going with them, Harry,' Justice said quietly. Harry bit back his first retort; he and Justice needed to work together to get out of this mess. 'I sense three mages spread out around the area. You're looking right at one, but it seems they've made themselves invisible.'

'Damn,' Harry muttered mentally as he turned his glare on Umbridge, who was still smirking at him.

"What's going on here?" a slightly shaky voice asked. Spinning, Harry realized it was Mrs. Figg, the woman who had watched him several times when the Dursleys were out.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, ma'am," Umbridge said, sounding annoyed. "We're just collecting Mr. Potter, here."

"On whose authority?" Mrs. Figg demanded, waving her handbag. "I didn't watch this boy grow for fourteen years just to let some strangers drive off with him!" Harry felt a surge of respect for Mrs. Figg rush through him. She may have fed him cake that had been around for a year while showing him pictures of all her cats, but at this moment, he could think of very few people in the world he would rather be with.

'We do have friends here,' Justice said quietly.

"I'm afraid this is not your decision, ma'am," Umbridge said, showing her the paper. "This clearly states–"

"I'm no lawyer, so that could all be codswallop for all I know!" Mrs. Figg snapped, reaching out a hand for Harry. "Come with me, Harry, we'll get this sorted out." Harry happily complied, grabbing his trunk and dragging it towards Mrs. Figg's house.

"Yes, let's go," Umbridge said. "If we can just step inside–"

'They can Obliviate her…' Justice hissed.

'…and take us by force, since there would be no witnesses…' Harry finished, his mind racing. He had to keep the Ministry officials out of the house without alerting Mrs. Figg to their presence.

"I don't remember asking _you_ to come!" Mrs. Figg snapped, glaring at Umbridge. "Come _on_, Harry!" As Harry and Mrs. Figg retreated, Umbridge subtly signaled one of the Disillusioned wizards, keeping her eyes on Harry.

'Which way does Mrs. Figg's door open, Harry?' Justice asked quietly as they climbed her steps, closely followed by the invisible wizard.

'Inwards,' Harry answered as Mrs. Figg fumbled with the doorknob, keeping her gaze on Umbridge. Suddenly catching onto Justice's plan, he stepped past her. "Let me get that, Mrs. Figg, and thank you."

"Think nothing of it, Harry," Mrs. Figg said, smiling slightly. Harry quickly pushed the door open and shoved his trunk in before holding it for Mrs. Figg.

After the old woman was inside, Harry made to slam the door. As expected, the invisible wizard had tried to follow them inside, but was knocked back by Harry's sudden move. Fortunately, his pained grunt was too soft for Mrs. Figg to hear.

"Lock the door, Harry, quickly!" Mrs. Figg said, desperately rushing through the sitting room to get the back door. Harry complied, but jerked as a flash of magic emanated from the sitting room. He spun around in time to see a single scarlet feather floating down onto a scroll of parchment that certainly hadn't been there a few moments ago.

"Fawkes…" Harry breathed in horror, dashing forward to grab the feather before Mrs. Figg saw it, she must be suspicious enough as it was without feathers from mythical birds appearing in her sitting room.

"What's going on, Harry?" Mrs. Figg asked as she returned, looking around wildly.

"I don't know," Harry said. "The Dursleys and I had just returned when they drove up, demanding that Uncle Vernon hand me over to them."

"What did he say?" Mrs. Figg asked. "Did Vernon agree to their demand?"

"Yeah," Harry said, glancing around. Justice could sense the wizards prowling around outside, probably looking for a way in.

"Oh no, oh no…" Mrs. Figg whispered, wringing her hands. "Dumbledore's going to have his work cut out for him on this one. Did that fool Vernon _think_ before he acted? Of course he didn't, that bloated…"

"Wait, wait… you know Dumbledore?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore!?" Mrs. Figg snapped. "We have to get you out of here, I'm a Squib, I can't hold them off if they decide to break in, and you can't use magic…"

"Were you expecting a message from Dumbledore?" Harry asked, holding up the letter that had come with Fawkes' feather. Mrs. Figg started.

"When did that arrive? Never mind, give it to me, quickly!" Harry handed it to her, still looking stunned. "… Dumbledore knows something's wrong, and wants me to check on you before he arrives! Well, since I already have you, we just have to wait, and he'll sort everything out."

Less than a second after Mrs. Figg had finished her sentence, another flash of flame filled the room, and Dumbledore was there. Fawkes the Phoenix flapped to stand on the railing of the stairs, letting out a single note.

"Harry?" the headmaster said, looking Harry up and down. "Good, you're unharmed. What happened? Why have the wards gone down?"

"The Dursleys threw him out!" Mrs. Figg said desperately. "Handed him over to the Ministry, agreed that they had legal rights to him!"

"No…" Dumbledore whispered, seeming to gaze through the walls of the house at Number 4. "I was quite explicit in my letter…" He shook his head. "We'll deal with that at another time. The most important thing is to get Harry back to Hogwarts as soon as possible, before the Ministry can interfere." He turned to Harry. "Go with Fawkes, Harry, and when you reach my office, _stay there_! Someone will be with you shortly."

"Sir, what's going on?" Harry asked as he walked towards the phoenix.

"I'll explain later, Harry. For now, go quickly!" A firm knock came on the door.

'Umbridge,' Justice hissed.

"Go!" Dumbledore said as he walked towards the door as slowly as he could. Taking his cue, Harry reached out and grabbed some of Fawkes' tail feathers. The massive bird spread his wings, and Harry felt a flash of heat and heard a rushing noise.

After a few seconds of confusion, Harry's feet slammed into the floor of Dumbledore's office. Fawkes patiently flapped his wings, pulling his feathers out of Harry's grip before flying over to his perch and settling down.

"What's going on?" Harry muttered as he looked around the round office. Nothing seemed to have changed since he was last in here, but somehow it seemed darker than usual.

'Nothing good,' Justice said.

Suddenly, the door burst open causing Harry to jerk his wand out. He was on the verge of using a Stunner when he realized that it was Professor McGonagall.

"Sorry, Professor," he said as he lowered his wand. She simply waved it off.

"Never mind that, Mr. Potter, _What is going on?!_ Professor Dumbledore only had time to tell me to come here!"

"I don't really know myself, Professor," Harry said. "I had just reached Privet Drive when some people from the Ministry showed up and demanded that the Dursleys give me to them."

"And did they say yes?" Professor McGonagall whispered, her face paling.

"Yes. Mrs. Figg was able to get me away long enough for Dumbledore to send me back here. He's trying to sort everything out now." 'Without us.'

'I think it best we leave this matter in his hands.' Justice said quietly. 'I'm sure he knows what he is doing.'

Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, was muttering to herself furiously. Finally, she looked up. "Did Professor Dumbledore have any instructions?"

"No, Professor," Harry said. "He just told me to stay here." After a moment of silence, Harry asked the question he and Justice dreaded the answer to. "Professor, will I have to go with the Ministry?"

"I certainly hope not, Lucius Malfoy would buy you as quickly as possible and hand you over to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name, and everything we've done will have been for naught."

"Professor McGonagall!" one of the portraits shouted as she rushed back into her frame. "Professor Dumbledore's back, and he brought that Umbridge woman who works for the Ministry! They're coming here!"

"Is that good or bad?" Harry asked, gripping his wand tightly. Professor McGonagall noticed and shook her head.

"Put that away, Mr. Potter. If it comes to a duel, Professor Dumbledore and I will handle it," she said crisply. Harry slowly nodded and slipped his wand into his sleeve, where he could get it easily, just in case.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and Dumbledore and Umbridge stepped into the office.

"Please, everyone, take a seat, I think we might be here a while," Dumbledore said, smiling as he stepped around his desk and waving his wand to conjure three squishy armchairs in front of the desk. Harry immediately sat down in one of the two edge seats while Professor McGonagall claimed the middle one.

Umbridge, however, did not sit down. "I fail to see why this will take long," she said in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers. "It has become clear to the Ministry that Harry Potter is simply not well enough to live anywhere where he is a threat to the International Statute of Secrecy. Thus, in order to protect this most important Wizarding law, we are–"

"Mr. Potter is right here," Professor McGonagall said coldly.

Dumbledore silenced her with a glance before turning to Umbridge. "While I am sure that you have the best of intentions…" Harry snorted quietly, but didn't comment. "…I must remind you that, as per the will of Lily and James Potter, in the event that something should befall both themselves and Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, I would be the one to see to Harry Potter's future. Thus, the Ministry should have informed me of any change in plans."

"Perhaps," Umbridge said smoothly, but Harry saw her jaw tense. "I must point out, however, that you gave guardianship rights to the Dursley family. They have now transferred those rights to the Ministry. Therefore, we have legal rights."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore retorted, "but the will remains in effect. Legally, I retain the right to have a say in what happens to Harry."

"I would remind you that the Ministry has claimed children in the past when they were too great a threat to the Status of Secrecy, as per the Huntsman Directive," Umbridge said. "There is precedent for this series of events."

'What did she just say…' Justice whispered; his voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. Harry swiftly tried to calm the spirit before he did something they would regret later and almost missed Dumbledore's retort.

"That law hasn't been invoked for almost a hundred years," Dumbledore said, his eyes hard. "And even so, the claim can be formally challenged."

"Are you going to challenge it?" Umbridge said quietly.

"Though I shouldn't have to, yes, I will." Umbridge forced a smile.

"Very well, we'll set aside time on our schedule to deal with the matter. Until then, Harry Potter will be–"

"At Hogwarts," Dumbledore said firmly.

"I'm afraid not, Dumbledore," Umbridge said. "He will be in custody at the Ministry–"

"Custody!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "Mr. Potter has committed no crime! I think that _he_ should have the right to decide where he stays while waiting for the _hearing_ on the matter!"

Everyone turned to Harry, and he was about to say "the Burrow," when Justice stepped in.

'Harry, we should stay here,' he said. 'This place is a fortress, if the Ministry attempts another kidnapping, they will have a harder time breaching these walls than the Burrow.' He sighed. 'Besides, there will be less potential for… collateral damage.'

The mental image of Ron or one of the other Weasleys being hit by a stray spell made up Harry's mind. "I want to stay here, at Hogwarts," he said. Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"I must point out that Harry Potter is a _child_, and–" Umbridge snapped.

"That does not mean that he has no rights," Dumbledore said. "If it is his wish to remain at Hogwarts until this matter is decided, then that is his choice to make." He smiled at Harry. "I'll see to it that your trunk is brought here, as well as any other belongings you might have left at Number Four Privet Drive."

"There's nothing there I want," Harry said bitterly.

Finally, Umbridge shook her head. "This isn't over, Dumbledore," she said warningly. "You're making a serious mistake." Turning on her heel, she stomped to the door of the office.

"Professor McGonagall, would you kindly walk Madam Umbridge to the gate?" Dumbledore said pleasantly. Neither woman seemed to be happy with this, but neither spoke, so they left together.

"What happens now, Professor?" Harry asked after a moment. Dumbledore sighed.

"I'll have to contact my friends and allies in the Wizengamot," he said. "I should also talk to Madam Bones, she leads a rather large faction, and has a strong sense of fairness." Seeming to be lost in thought, the Headmaster pulled a piece of parchment from his desk and started writing. Harry waited for a while before speaking up again.

"Do you think Voldemort's behind this, sir?" Harry asked. After a moment, Dumbledore looked up.

"Perhaps, but this isn't his style," he said. "No, I think that the Ministry wants you, or more accurately, you, Justice." His eyes met Harry's, and after a moment Justice spoke.

'You told him about me?' he asked, sounding hurt and angry.

"I did not," Dumbledore said firmly. "What I meant was that he was asking about the symptom that he saw, Harry's defeat of Crouch Jr. I believe he wishes to discover for himself what is going on."

"So he wanted to run tests on us?" Harry asked, a swooping sensation coursing through him.

"Yes, I believe that is the Ministry's plan. They would then give you to a Pureblood family, believing that would silence you from speaking out about Voldemort." His eyes hardened. "Of course, I am quite certain that the likes of Lucius Malfoy would be the families consulted, especially if gold changes hands." He looked back to his parchment.

Harry stayed seated, deciding to give Dumbledore some time. Finally, the Headmaster finished the letter, sealed it with a tap of his wand, and gave it to Fawkes, whispering a few words in the Phoenix's ear. The bird gave a soft cry before spreading his massive wings and soaring out the window and into the darkening sky.

"What do I do now, Professor?" Harry asked.

"For the moment, you may return to Gryffindor Tower. The password hasn't changed. We'll work out a more permanent schedule tomorrow. Good night, Harry." He paused. "Before I forget, I would ask that you keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times for the immediate future, just in case. I don't believe the Ministry will try anything overt, but fear causes people to do strange things."

Harry nodded, bade the Headmaster good night, and left, walking to Gryffindor Tower. The Common Room hadn't changed a bit since he had last been there, and he carefully made his way up to his dormitory.

When he arrived, he wasn't really surprised that his trunk was already waiting for him, as well as Hedwig's empty cage. A cursory check confirmed that nothing had been moved or taken, so he pulled his pajamas out and got ready for bed.

"Well, look on the bright side," he said to Justice later on in the dream room. "Now we don't have to stay with the Dursleys."

* * *

><p>The next day, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall, wondering what was going to happen now. He arrived to see Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Snape talking quietly at a small round table in the center of the room.<p>

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore called warmly as Harry hesitated at the door. "We've already prepared a seat for you." Snape looked sour, but didn't speak as Harry sat down. "I was just telling Severus what transpired yesterday," Dumbledore continued.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, trying not to look at Snape too much as he ate. After a few minutes of silence, he asked what he was supposed to do.

"That depends a great deal on you, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said curtly. "If you are wondering about classes, then no, you don't have any, since most of the professors are off on… other business." She looked sternly at him. "Of course, assume that any and all rules that are in place during the school year also apply now." Harry nodded. "If you wish, you can spend time in the library, preparing for your O.W.L.s–"

"Can I go out on the grounds, Professor?" Harry asked. Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Not without supervision, I'm afraid. It's simply too dangerous."

'So no Quidditch, then,' Harry thought morosely as he nodded again. He didn't particularly want to spend all his time in the library, but if that was the only option they were giving him…

'There are other things in the library,' Justice said. 'And perhaps we can explore the school. This place is so infused with magic… I've never seen anything like it in a mortal realm.'

"Have we heard anything from the Ministry, sir?" Harry asked Dumbledore, who shook his head.

"Not yet. They are likely still reeling from the failure yesterday. Likely they will have some response by the end of the week, but until then we'll be gathering support from the rest of the Wizengamot." He chuckled slightly as Harry opened his mouth eagerly. "I'm afraid there is not much for you to do yet, Harry. I know you must be frustrated, but your safety is the most important thing." He rose to his feet. "Now, I must go to a meeting. If you have any needs, Harry, I'm sure Professor McGonagall or Severus will be happy to help you."

Snape looked like he would rather curse himself than help Harry with anything, and quite frankly Harry felt the same way. He'd talk to Professor McGonagall if he had to. Dumbledore studied him for a long moment before sweeping out of the Hall. Snape sprang to his feet the second the door shut and hurried away himself.

Harry and Professor McGonagall sat awkwardly at the table for a minute longer before she slowly got up. "Well, Mr. Potter, the day is yours. Please remember what I said."

"I will, Professor," Harry said, standing himself as the plates vanished from the table.

As he left the Hall, he realized with a flash of guilt that he should have sent a letter to Ron and Hermione as soon as he had gotten away from Dumbledore's office last night. Darting back up to the Gryffindor common room, he grabbed a piece of parchment and started writing.

_ Ron_

_ How are you doing? I know this is a bit early to be writing to you, but something happened yesterday that you should know about._

_ When I got back to Privet Drive with the Dursleys, a witch from the Ministry showed up and tried to kidnap me (legally, of course). Her name was Umbridge, and she looked like a gigantic toad._

_ Fortunately, it turned out one of the neighbors was an undercover Squib placed there by Dumbledore too keep an eye on me, so she got me away from Umbridge long enough for Dumbledore to arrive and he brought me back to Hogwarts. Right now, there's going to be a hearing at the Wizengamot about what to do with me, and until then I'm staying at Hogwarts._

_ Say hi to everyone for me._

_ Harry_

'Think I should say anything else?' Harry asked Justice as he read the letter over.

'There is not much else to say; we do not really know what's going on beyond this,' Justice said. 'I did like your description of Umbridge, though. She reminds me far to much of… others.' Harry nodded, having an idea about what the spirit was alluding to.

Harry re-wrote the letter to Hermione, rolled them both up, and jogged his way up to the Owlery. Hedwig pulled her head out from under her wing and fluttered down, holding out a leg.

"Take this one to Ron and this one to Hermione, okay?" Harry said as he tied the two letters to her leg before stroking her head. She hooted softly before swooping out the window and flying into the distance, heading south.

Harry simply stood at the top of the tower for a long time, taking in the air. It seemed that, when he was at Hogwarts, he was always rushing somewhere, whether it be class or some strange adventure. It was rare that he just had time to just stand around and relax.

But he shouldn't be relaxing, Harry thought in annoyance. Voldemort was back, he should be out there doing something, not sitting back and waiting.

'Sometimes, waiting is the best thing,' Justice said. 'Anders often said that, while we were planning. However, in my arrogance and haste, I never listened to him.' The spirit's voice became pained. 'Looking back, that was among my greatest mistakes…'

'Justice, stop it,' Harry said gently, turning his attention inwards. 'We've already decided you made mistakes, but you don't need to keep beating yourself up over them. We'll do better.' He smiled wryly. 'Besides, whatever happened seems to have given you the wisdom to temper my impulsiveness.'

'…I have never thought of myself as wise,' Justice said quietly. 'I am a spirit of Justice, not Wisdom.'

'That doesn't mean you can't be wise as well,' Harry said. Justice chuckled quietly, and after a moment the pair decided to head to the library and find something to do, hopefully nothing related to homework or exams.

However, as they slowly walked along the seventh floor, past a tapestry of a wizard being beaten to death by trolls wearing tutus (having had to detour around Peeves), Justice stopped Harry.

'There is something here,' he said, directing Harry to walk to the opposite wall. To Harry, it looked like almost every other wall in Hogwarts: cold grey stone, set with torches. 'No, there is something else here, something powerful…'

'You want to take control?' Harry asked, causing Justice to flinch.

'…I am still… not ready,' he said after a moment.

'We really need to work on that guilt of yours,' Harry said as he carefully pressed his hands against the stone. Now that Justice pointed it out, he could sense something, something magical. They just needed to figure out what it was.

After a moment when nothing happened, Harry pushed himself away from the wall and started pacing, thinking hard.

"Some clue," he muttered as he turned. "Maybe it needs a password…"

As he turned again, the energy from the wall flared, and a large, gilded door popped into existence.

'That was… unexpected,' Justice said.

'Well, let's see what's on the other side,' Harry said as he pulled the door open.

An almost empty room greeted him. The only thing in it was a single table with a slim book on it. Harry quickly walked over and picked the book up.

"The Room of Requirement," he read out loud as he opened the book.

_This room is one of the greatest creations of the Four Founders_, the book read. _It was designed to fulfill the wishes of whoever entered it to the best of its ability. To enter the room, one must either be let in, or pass the room three times, focusing on the desire they wish fulfilled. Once inside, that desire can be changed, and the room will continue to grant the user what he or she needs, shifting it's perceived shape and size as necessary. (For other abilities, turn to page 2)_

_ The room, however, has limits. It can create certain objects, but these cannot be taken out of the room, since they are magical constructs, and the room must obey all laws of conjuration. (For other restrictions, turn to page 3)_

_ Also, the room has a hierarchy of obedience, beginning with the first person to enter the room. That person, know as the Prime User, can cancel out any other desire with their own. The title of Prime User is lost when the bearer leaves the room…_

Harry flipped through the rest of the book, which was quite technical. He doubted even Hermione would understand most of it. He was also too excited to care.

"So this room can give me almost anything?" he asked no one in particular. Deciding to test it, he focused his mind on a Quidditch pitch. Obediently, the room swelled, grass grew under Harry's feet, and stands rose around him.

'Impressive,' Justice said as Harry looked around. 'The amount of skill it must have taken to make this place…'

"No kidding…" Harry murmured, gazing around the pitch. "Now all I need is…" As he said this, he saw a Firebolt hovering nearby, waiting for him. With a grin, he rushed over, mounted, and kicked off into the air, leaving his worries behind.

Harry didn't know how long he spent in the Room of Requirement. After some free flying, he brought a Snitch into existence and started chasing it.

'I should be glad Oliver never discovered this room,' he said as he caught the Snitch for the seventh time. "He'd have had us in here every minute he could!" Justice simply "smiled."

"Harry Potter, sir!"

Harry spun in mid air, looking around for the source of the tinny voice. Finally, he spotted Dobby jumping up and down in the center of the pitch, waving his arms.

"Dobby!" he called, soaring to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore sir told Dobby Harry Potter were here, and Dobby thought he would see if Harry Potter is needing anything!" He looked around the pitch, blinking his wide green eyes. "Dobby looked high and low for Harry Potter. He is not knowing that Harry Potter knew about the Come and Go Room!"

"I just found it today," Harry said, looking around. "It's amazing, isn't it?"

"It is, Harry Potter, it is!" Dobby said, his ears flopping as he bounced on his feet. "Dobby uses it often, he was intending to ask it to help Dobby find Harry Potter!"

"It can do that?" Harry asked. Dobby smiled, and a table appeared next to them, carrying what looked like a rough copy of the Marauder's Map. "Wicked…"

"So, is Harry Potter needing anything?" Dobby asked, clapping his hands excitedly.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, since he had lost track sometime during his flight.

"It is half past three, Harry Potter!" Dobby said, clapping slightly. Harry blinked, he must have lost track of time. "Harry Potter did not come to lunch, but if he needs food, the kitchens will be happy to help."

"Well, I am kind of hungry…" Harry said, finally noticing the empty feeling in his stomach. Dobby beamed.

"Then Harry Potter must come with Dobby!" he cried. "This way!"

'This Dobby certainly is excitable,' Justice said quietly as Harry followed the bouncing elf down the stairs towards the kitchen.

'Yeah, he is,' Harry thought. After a moment of silence, he got the spirit's attention again. 'What are you thinking?'

'I am simply considering your friend Hermione's quest to liberate the house elves,' Justice said.

'And…' Harry asked.

'It is… curious,' Justice said. 'On the one hand, their fate reminds me of what mages in the world I come are forced to accept, and I still wish to see justice. On the other hand, they seem… accepting. Even Dobby…' He fell silent, but Harry understood what he was thinking.

'I guess that sometimes there aren't any clear answers.' Harry's thoughts were interrupted on the third floor.

"Mr. Potter!" Harry jerked at the voice, almost a shriek, before realizing that it was only Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked, turning towards the irate woman.

"Where, might I ask, have you been?" she whispered, her lips thin and her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Here and there, Professor," Harry said. "I simply lost track of time." Professor McGonagall stared at him for a long moment before nodding sharply.

"Mr. Potter, please try and remember to check in every now and then. The situation remains too… volatile, for you to be disappearing every day."

Harry nodded. ""I'll keep that in mind, Professor. Sorry for worrying you." Professor McGonagall muttered something under her breath.

"Does Harry Potter still want lunch?" Dobby asked nervously, bouncing on his feet.

"Yes, Dobby, that would be brilliant." Harry said. Dobby grinned and continued leading Harry down to the kitchens. After a few minutes, Harry spoke up again. "How have you been, Dobby?"

"Dobby is doing well, Harry Potter!" the excitable elf said. "The house elves do not have much to do, now that all the students are gone." He blinked, "Well, Harry Potter is still here, but Dobby doesn't mind, since Harry Potter is such a great wizard!"

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said.

"Dobby merely speaks the truth, Harry Potter!"

The pair finally arrived at the painting that led into the kitchens. Harry carefully tickled the pear, opened the door, and stepped back to let Dobby in first. By the time he had entered the kitchen himself, the rest of the house elves were already bustling around, making a quick lunch for him.

"Thank you," he said to the cluster of elves that handed him a tray. The retreated, smiling and bowing as they went.

Harry saw Dobby crouching down near Winky, who was sitting at the fireplace, sobbing to herself. Deciding to try and avoid drawing attention to the despondent elf, Harry turned his attention inwards to Justice.

'So, have you thought any more about how we're going to overcome your fears?' he thought. Justice was silent for a long moment.

'Slowly,' he said finally. 'We should start small, for both our sakes. You might not remember it, but our battle with the imposter took a toll on your body.'

'How does that work, anyways?' Harry asked.

'Magic has to be channeled through your body,' Justice explained. 'Your mana channel, however, is relatively small compared to what I've seen.' Harry sighed before Justice continued. 'That is not an insult, nor is it anything wrong with you. The world I come from is awash with magic, while this world is not. Humans in this realm have not evolved the larger, stronger mana channels needed to use the excess mana.'

'So, wizards here are weaker than where you come from?' Harry asked.

'Yes, but that is the same as saying a dagger is weaker than a greatsword. What you lack in raw power you make up for in precision and control. From what I've seen of our enemy, Voldemort, he could likely defeat the vast majority of mages I have met, simply because he has such fine control and mobility.'

'Not to mention ruthlessness,' Harry thought grimly. 'So, how do you factor in?'

'Whenever I manifest, I force more power through your mana channel than it can handle. Therefore, it tears.' Justice chuckled slightly at the flash of horror in Harry's mind. 'That is not a bad thing, unless the damage is so severe that your body cannot repair it. If it can, it rebuilds the mana channel to be larger and stronger.'

'So it's like we're working out our magic?'

Justice nodded mentally. 'Yes, that is an accurate summary. Therefore, we should take our practice slowly, both to avoid damaging your body and… for my sanity's sake.'

'Okay, Justice,' Harry said after a moment. 'So, maybe once a week, we slip off somewhere private and practice. The Room of Requirement seems like a good place, don't you think?'

'It does,' Justice nodded.

'So, you want to give it a try after we're finished here, or should we wait for a bit?' Justice thought for several seconds before giving an affirmative.

'If war is coming, then we must prepare as soon as possible.'

Harry finished his lunch in silence, thanked the house elves again, and quietly left, rushing back to the Room of Requirement.

'We need someplace to train,' he thought as he paced. 'We need someplace quiet.' As his eyes opened, the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. Rather than a magnificent, golden door, however, it was made of rough wood that seemed to blend into the wall. Harry simply pushed it open and stepped in.

As expected, the Quidditch field was gone, replaced by a small, dim room. There were thick cushions on the floor. A crunching sound came from the wall behind Harry, and when he turned he realized that the door had disappeared.

"Well, I guess this is as private as we're going to get," he said as he settled himself carefully onto the nearest cushion. 'So, is there anything in particular we should do?'

'A moment,' Justice said, his voice shaking slightly. Harry waited, and finally Justice spoke again. 'Simply open yourself, Harry,' he said. 'I will as well, and hopefully we will meet in the middle.'

'Okay,' Harry said as he closed his eyes, focusing. After several long moments, he felt Justice's presence reach out for him.

They joined, and the world went white.

As his vision cleared, Harry could _feel_ Justice, not just hear him. Every errant thought, every subtle twitch, everything. They were one being, in a way that Harry had never thought that he would experience.

He could also feel pain. Second only to the Cruciatus Curse, it was almost enough to cause Harry to black out. It took him a moment to realize that there were actually two sources: his own body, and Justice.

They lasted less than a second before the rising pain and panic caused a feedback loop, and Justice wrenched himself away from Harry, who promptly fainted.

Harry didn't know exactly how long he was out, but it had to have been at least a few minutes, since his left arm was sore from being crushed under the rest of him.

"That was… intense…" he gasped.

'It was, wasn't it?' Justice said. 'I had… almost forgotten… just how much of a drain it was.'

'Why didn't it hurt that much during our fight with Crouch?' Harry asked. His memories of that fight were fuzzy, but he thought he would remember that kind of agony.

'It did, we just did not notice. Adrenalin is an amazing pain inhibitor.' He paused. 'I think that's enough for now.'

'There has to be something else that I can do to improve,' Harry said.

'You can push your magic by casting many spells in a short period of time,' Justice said. 'That will allow you to strengthen your mana channel. That should dampen the pain, which will lead to less of a fear feedback.' He sighed. 'Other than that, there is not much to do other than brace ourselves and keep going, no matter how much it hurts.'

'Alright,' Harry said, pushing himself to his feet. It felt as if he hadn't just eaten. 'Do you know what time it is?'

A clock appeared next to him, indicating that it was now a quarter to five, meaning that dinner was still more than an hour away.

'If you don't mind, could we go to the library for the remaining time?' Justice asked. 'I wish to know more about this new world.'

"Sure, Justice," Harry said, smiling.

Madam Pince looked up as Harry entered the library (Harry hadn't really expected the librarian to leave her precious books undefended). He nodded politely before heading into the history section and grabbing a general guide to Wizarding history.

'I still find it incredible that the mages of this world have been able to so completely isolate themselves from non… Muggles, that would seek to harm them,' Justice though an hour later. 'I suppose the lack of abominations helped.' Harry simply nodded; despite Justice's enthusiasm, he still found history to be more tedious than interesting, probably a result of reading everything as if it came from Professor Binn's mouth.

The pair headed back to the Great Hall, followed by Madam Pince, who had been keeping a close eye on Harry the entire time he had been in the library under the guise of dusting. When they arrived, they found Professor Dumbledore, speaking quietly with Professor McGonagall and, surprisingly, Remus Lupin.

"Harry!" Lupin said, smiling as he pushed himself to his feet. "How are you?"

"Fine, Professor," Harry said, taking the offered hand. Lupin chuckled.

"I'm no longer a professor, Harry, so you don't have to call me that anymore. You can just call me Remus, if you want." He grinned at the surprised look on Harry's face. "Or, if you're not comfortable with that, you can just use Lupin."

"Alright," Harry said. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore told me about what happened," Lupin said, his smile fading. "I've never heard of the Ministry attempting anything this… absurd… before."

"It is born of fear," Dumbledore said. He then turned to Harry. "The Ministry is moving more swiftly than I had imagined. They've decided on a date for the hearing: next week on the 9th of July. It seems they want this over with quickly."

"Is that good or bad, sir?" Harry asked.

"While I would have preferred more time to rally support, the same could be said for the likes of Lucius Malfoy. The less he gets involved in the matter, the better."

Harry nodded, and the meal proceeded in relative silence for a few minutes. Finally, Harry decided to bring up the question he had been considering for some time.

"What's Voldemort up to?" he asked.

Everyone was quiet for a time before Dumbledore spoke gently. "That isn't your concern at the moment, Harry. Suffice it to say that he has gone underground and is preparing himself for the coming war." The headmaster then turned back to his plate, clearly considering the conversation over. Harry glanced at Lupin, who shook his head and went back to his food himself.

'What's up with them?' Harry thought. 'It seems as if they just… don't want to tell me anything.'

'Yes, it is odd, is it not,' Justice responded, and Harry got the feeling that if the spirit had eyes, they would be narrowed right now. 'What is it they hide?' In the end, Harry and Justice agreed that now was not the time to push for more information, and instead Harry answered a few vague questions about what he had done that day, carefully avoiding mentioning the Room of Requirement and the brief practice with Justice. Finally, Dumbledore excused himself, mentioning something about sending another letter to Madam Bones. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pince left soon after, giving Harry some time to talk with Lupin.

"Sirius wanted me to say hello, Harry," Lupin said as he pulled his cloak on in the entrance hall. "He really wishes he could have come, but Dumbledore suggested that he stay at Hea… at home."

"Can I send letters?" Harry asked, trying not to let his frustration show. He clearly didn't do very well, since Lupin's face took on a sympathetic glow as he patted Harry on the shoulder.

"I know this must be hard for you, Harry," he said gently. "But realize that our first priority is to keep you safe." He sighed. "To answer your question, it would probably be best if you didn't send anything to Sirius for the moment, since those letters could so easily be intercepted. And even when writing to Ron and Hermione, be careful what you say."

"Well, tell Sirius I said hi, won't you?" Harry said.

"I will. Take care, Harry." With that, he turned and swept out of the massive front doors and down towards the gate. Harry watched him go for a few moments before turning and heading up towards Gryffindor common room.

When he arrived, the first thing he saw was that Hedwig was back, with two scrolls tied to her leg. Quickly striding across the empty room, he gently removed the letters, receiving a soft hoot of gratitude from Hedwig as she spread her wings and soared back to the Owlery.

Quickly opening the first letter, Harry recognized it as Hermione's. Her normally impeccable handwriting was rough, indicating that her hands had been badly shaking when she hastily wrote it.

_ Harry_

_ Are you alright? Oh, I just don't believe this! Bad enough that the Ministry's denying that You-Know-Who's back, but now this! This is outrageous, that they feel entitled to show up and take you away without so much as a by your leave! How do they have that much power? It's ridiculous; it seems more like a dictatorship than a representative government! No wonder house-elves have such a poor lot, it seems even humans who don't have _money_ or _blood purity_ or other such nonsense get trampled! I hope that Professor Dumbledore can beat them at their own game!_

_ But Harry, I'm worried. It strikes me that, if they were desperate enough to try to silence you like this, they might be desperate enough to try again. You must be so, so careful; do everything the professors tell you, and keep your head down. I know you must be worried and frustrated, but there isn't much you can do without putting yourself more at risk._

_ I hope to see you soon._

_ Love_

_ Hermione_

Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he read. He could almost imagine the bushy-haired witch's face turning beet red in indignation. Still laughing, he opened Ron's letter. His handwriting was almost illegibly, but Harry was able to decipher it after a few moment.

_ Harry_

_ I heard Mum mention that Dumbledore had come by last night, and I guess it was about this. I _(Several words were scribbled out)_ don't know what to say. Maybe the Ministry's gone completely mental; kind of makes me worry about Dad and Percy working there. Hope they haven't gotten caught up in this mess._

_ Well, I'm sure that Dumbledore knows what he's doing, he's got to have a plan of some sort._

_ Hope you're well_

_ Ron_

_ PS: I asked Dad about Umbridge, and apparently she's pretty close to the top in Fudge's office (Senior Underseer or something like that). If she came personally, then things are really bad._

'Well, that was interesting,' Justice said as Harry rolled the letters up. 'I wonder why Dumbledore went to the Weasleys last night.'

'Dunno,' Harry thought back, 'but I hope it helped. I wonder what happens if we win. I don't want to go back to the Dursleys, no matter what kinds of wards are there.'

'We will see, Harry, we will see.'

* * *

><p>The week passed slowly for Harry. He didn't see much of Dumbledore, who appeared only occasionally at meals. Lupin told Harry that he was spending his time at meetings with various members of the Wizengamot, trying to rally support, though Harry got the feeling that his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was holding something back.<p>

Professor McGonagall and Snape were often away as well. Professor Flitwick had returned from wherever he had been before this all started to keep an eye on Harry.

'Snape's probably still spying on Voldemort,' Harry thought as he and Justice were practicing spells in the Room of Requirement a few days later.

'Or for Voldemort,' Justice reminded Harry, who nodded grimly. Dumbledore may trust Snape completely, but Harry was going to remain wary for the time being, which was one of the reasons he was glad that Snape wasn't around Hogwarts much.

Harry and Justice split their time between the library; looking up bits of wizarding history as well as new spells that might come in handy, and the Room of Requirement, where they practiced the spells they had learned. To avoid any potential trouble of underage magic, Harry and Justice had spend some time in crafting a room that acted like magic was being cast from a fake wand while not actually doing all that much. It was a poor substitute, but they had decided that it would be better to avoid giving the Ministry any more accusations to throw at them.

During this time, Harry asked more questions about how magic worked in Thedas, the land Justice came from. Rather than having a spell that did one thing really well, most magic was simply reaching out and using power to reshape the world directly, though there were a few branches (such as Creation,) that did use something similar to what Harry would consider spells. While this played to mage's strength: the amount of raw power they had to throw around, it did tend to drain them very quickly. Wizards, meanwhile, used smaller amounts of energy very efficiently, but they were vulnerable to being overwhelmed by raw power if they weren't careful.

'That's what happened to Crouch,' Harry mentioned after he realized this. 'We just hit him so hard and so fast that he couldn't bring his greater experience to bear before the fight was over.'

Still, the upcoming hearing at the Ministry remained in the back of Harry's mind. No matter how many times people assured him that there was nothing he could do, he had the feeling that he was missing something. It didn't help that, every time he looked at the Daily Prophet, he found some small reference to himself as some sort of deranged, attention-seeking liar.

Finally, on the ninth, Harry came down to breakfast (Dressed in Muggle clothes but with his robes in a bag,) and was surprised to see Mr. Weasley sitting at the table, talking with Professor McGonagall. Both of them fell silent before Harry could hear what they were talking about.

"Harry, how are you?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking nervous himself.

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Where's Professor Dumbledore?"

"He went in early for one last meeting. He asked me to come by and bring you to the Ministry."

"When is the hearing?" Harry asked.

"It's at half-past one, and it's taking place down in the old courtrooms." Mr. Weasley shook his head. "Those rooms haven't been used since the end of the war, why they're using them now is beyond me."

'Fear and intimidation,' Justice said grimly. 'They want to put on a show of strength.'

"Well, we should probably get going, Dumbledore mentioned that we should be early, though I'm not quite sure why," Mr. Weasley continued. "He said that you should bring your cloak, just in case."

"I've got it," Harry said, patting his bag again.

"Good luck, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, her voice shaking just enough to betray her worry.

As Mr. Weasley led Harry down to Hogsmead, Harry spoke up. "Can't we Floo to the Ministry or something?" Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"I'm afraid you can't, Harry. Since you don't work there, you have to come in through the visitor's entrance. It's one of the rules, and we can't afford to bend even a single one of them now. It would give a bad impression, and the situation is delicate enough without putting anything at risk." He looked around as they passed through the gate, lowering his voice. "No, we're taking the Knight Bus."

They had reached the road, and Mr. Weasley held out his wand. With a BANG, a bright purple triple-decker bus appeared, and a thin man hopped out. "Welcome to the Knight Bus…" He stopped when he recognized Harry. "Oi, Ern, it's Neville! Or Harry Potter, whatever name you're going by now!"

"Take us to the Ministry visitor's entrance drop-off point," Mr. Weasley said curtly, pushing the money into Stan's hand.

"Oh, right, right. Well, that's actually the next stop, 'nother lady wanted to go there."

With another almighty BANG, the Knight Bus was suddenly roaring through London, causing cars and signs to leap out of its path. After only a few seconds, the bus pulled into a deserted parking lot and the doors hissed open.

"Well, here's the stop. I hope you all have a good day," Stan said, still staring avidly at Harry's scar. Forcing himself to look straight ahead, Harry hopped off the bus, followed by Mr. Weasley and another witch.

"Wotcher, Arthur," she said, nodding politely. She had steely grey hair, yet the rest of her looked fairly young, maybe in her early twenties.

"Hello, Tonks," Mr. Weasley said, glancing around. "Odd to see you here."

"Things happen, Arthur, things happen." Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. On the surface, the pair's conversation looked strictly polite; two co-workers who happened to meet on the bus. However, his instincts were telling him that there was something else going on.

This suspicion was strengthened when Tonks looked down at him, a small smile on her face. "This must be Harry Potter," she said, glancing briefly at his scar. "Here for that hearing?" She winked.

"Yes," Harry said, carefully keeping his own voice neutral. The witch's smile widened.

"You're good at this," she whispered. "Well, I'll see you later, Arthur," she said more loudly, speeding up as she walked past an old, out-of-order phone booth.

"In here, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, pulling the door open.

'There is magic here,' Justice said. 'It's subtle, but it's there.' Harry didn't comment, keeping his eyes on Mr. Weasley as he studied the crooked phone box.

"I haven't used this thing in ages," he muttered. "What was that number again… six, I think, then a two, a pair of fours, then another two…"

As he finished punching in the numbers, a cool female voice echoed through the booth. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, escorting Harry Potter for a Wizengamot hearing," Mr. Weasley said, gingerly pressing the mouthpiece of the phone to his ear.

"Thank you. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

As the voice said this, there was a clunk from the change dispenser, and a single badge fell out. Harry picked it up.

_ Harry Potter: Wizengamot Hearing_

The voice had continued while he was examining the badge. "Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

Suddenly, with a clunk, Harry and Mr. Weasley sank down (Harry sincerely hoped that the Muggles walking around outside couldn't see this, as it would raise all sorts of questions.) As the lift descended, Harry whispered to Mr. Weasley.

"Who was that woman on the Knight Bus?"

"That was Tonks, a friend of Dumbledore's," Mr. Weasley muttered back. "We wanted to get you off the street as soon as possible, so she got on ahead of us to get the destination at the top of the list."

"Surely Voldemort wasn't going to try to kill me on the Knight Bus."

Like most wizards, Mr. Weasley jumped when Harry said Voldemort's name, but he pressed on. "You-Know-Who is a violent and unpredictable lunatic, Harry, there's no telling what he will or won't do when it comes to you. Best to not give him the opportunities." He straightened as light appeared at the bottom of the lift. After a moment, Harry got his first look at the Ministry of Magic.

It was a beautiful room, brightly lit and filled with witches and wizards. Hundreds of fireplaces lined the edges of the room, and the flashing green flames were reflected onto the dark, oaken floor. The various people who were expelled from these Floo entrances merged into a general flow leading deeper into the building (or whatever this place was). In the center of the bustle was an enormous golden fountain that depicted a goblin, a house-elf, and a centaur all gazing adoringly up at the much larger witch and wizard.

"Come on, Harry," Mr. Weasley muttered, pulling Harry through the crowd towards a desk overlooking a bank of elevators. The tired looking wizard sitting there looked up as the pair approached.

"I'm escorting a visitor," Mr. Weasley said, and the guard grunted.

"Stand there," he muttered, rummaging through the drawer of his desk for something as he gestured to a small circle carved into the floor. Harry warily stepped into the marked place, half expecting some sort of binding spell to grip him at any moment. However, nothing happened, and the wizard rose wielding a long, thin golden rod.

As he passed it up and down Harry, the young wizard, or more accurately Justice, felt an odd tingle pass through their shared body; clearly an active scanning spell of some sort. It didn't seem to detect anything incriminating, however, as the guard put it away without comment.

"Wand," he said, holding out his hand. Harry slowly placed his holly wand into the waiting hand. The guard tossed it carelessly onto a set of brass scales, which wavered for a moment before a slip of parchment was ejected from the base.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather, four years, yes?" the guard said, reading off the parchment. Harry nodded. "I'll keep this, and you get this," he continued, sticking the parchment on a small golden spike before thrusting Harry's wand back into his hand.

Harry glanced around as Mr. Weasley ushered him into a crowded elevator. For once, everyone appeared to be so busy with other things that they didn't notice him at all. Two wizards in the back were seriously discussing a case they had apparently just gotten back from about someone's Hippogriff getting spotted by some Muggles because it hadn't been properly Disillusioned. A witch was reading the Daily Prophet, and Harry spotted a picture of a Common Welsh Green on the front (Harry wondered mutinously what the paper had said about him this time.) Another wizard was dubiously studying a top hat, which would have looked perfectly ordinary except for the flapping white wings that extended from its base.

"Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center."

The lift slid open, and another witch pushed inside, scanning a roll of parchment so fast that her eyes were a blur. She was followed by a group of paper airplanes.

"Interdepartmental memos," Mr. Weasley said quietly as he noticed Harry staring. "We started using them after enough people got fed up of owl droppings all over their desks." Harry chuckled slightly at the image that statement produced.

"Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau."

The two hippogriff wizards and the Daily Prophet witch left, along with several of the memos. Another wizard slipped in after the group had left, but Harry was so busy looking up at the memos to recognize whom it was before someone addressed him.

"Harry?"

"Wh…" Harry jumped slightly before recognizing the young wizard. "Cedric?"

"Yeah," Cedric said, a smile brightening his face as he held out his hand. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here, Harry. What brings you into the heart of Magical Britain?"

"Nothing in particular," Harry said, not exactly wanting to go into detail when there were other unknown Ministry employees around. "How about you?"

"Job interviews," Cedric said. "Dad got me in touch with the head of the Goblin Liaison Office. He offered me a place in the House Elf Division, but I would prefer not to work in the same office as my father if I can avoid it." Cedric glanced around. "In fact, I really want to do something for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, since they're likely going to need all the help they can get before too long."

Harry raised his eyebrow slightly, it seemed that Cedric still believed that Voldemort had returned, for which Harry was grateful, since he was sure that some people had let the Prophet change their mind.

"Well, I wish you luck, I think the Ministry's going to need people like you," Harry said.

"Thanks, Harry."

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and the Wizengamot Administration Services."

"This is us, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. Harry quickly said goodbye to Cedric as the door closed between them, and then turned and followed Mr. Weasley.

"Professor Dumbledore should be around here somewhere…" Mr. Weasley muttered as he walked down the corridor. Harry glanced through the various doors that were open. One set, large and made of oak, lead into a large room that looked like it was divided into cubicles.

"That's the Auror's offices," Mr. Weasley said when Harry asked. "My office is also through there, but we're going to the Wizengamot section right now." After a few moments, he opened another set of massive double doors and walked in.

"Arthur," Dumbledore said as he looked up from what looked like a Muggle magazine he had been reading (none of the pictures were moving.) "I hope you didn't have too much trouble."

"No," Mr. Weasley said. Dumbledore nodded before turning to Harry.

"I'm afraid that the Ministry has seen fit to change the time of the hearing," he said quietly as he gestured Harry to follow him back towards the elevator. "It's now in twenty minutes."

"What…" Harry asked, wondering briefly what the Ministry would have to gain from it before an idea came to him. "They were trying to prevent us from attending by switching at the last second."

"That is a likely theory," Dumbledore said as he slipped into the next elevator that arrived (everyone who had been in it quickly left.)

'_Dumbledore mentioned that we should be early, though I'm not quite sure why_,' Mr. Weasley's voice drifted back to Harry. "You expected them to do this, didn't you Professor?" he said quietly. "That's why you had Mr. Weasley bring me early."

"I considered it a possibility," Dumbledore nodded, looking down at Harry. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Fine, sir," Harry said. "Do we have a plan?"

"I believe I have the support of a fair portion of the Wizengamot already," Dumbledore said as the elevator opened, showing a dark, rough stone corridor that led to a single door. "However, we must still be careful, since we do not have an iron-clad majority." He nodded towards a flight of stairs leading deeper into the earth. "The most important thing for you to do is to avoid losing your temper. Can you do that?" It was clear that Dumbledore was talking to both Harry and Justice.

"Yes, we can." Harry said, causing Dumbledore's eyes to twinkle.

"Then we have a very good chance of pulling through this."

Finally, the pair came to a stop outside one of the wooden doors.

"Let's get this over with," Harry muttered as Dumbledore opened the door for him politely.

Harry immediately recognized the massive, high-ceilinged room that he entered, since he had been there in a memory. It was the same room that Barty Crouch Jr. had been condemned in, the same one that Karkaroff had betrayed Voldemort to save his own skin.

Almost all the surrounding benches were packed, and as Harry's eyes traced the assembled crowd, he felt a swooping sense of anger at the sight of Lucius Malfoy, sitting near the central, more raised bench area that held the Wizengamot proper.

The chained chair used for criminals was still present, but there was a table set up behind it with several chairs pulled out, which Dumbledore immediately walked to, his face a calm mask. Harry carefully followed him.

"Is everyone assembled?" a woman said, her voice loud yet calm and even. Harry's eyes flicked to her, noting the strong, square jaw, the old fashioned monocle, and the expression of a woman who was not to be crossed lightly. Harry briefly wondered if she was related to Professor McGonagall in some way.

"I believe so, Madam Bones," Dumbledore said, smiling.

"Then we can begin," Cornelius Fudge said roughly from the center of the front row, right next to Madam Bones.

As the various people around the room settled, Harry looked over the rest of the court. He obviously didn't know most of the purple-robed witches and wizards, but he did recognize Umbridge, sitting on Fudge's other side and smirking that horrid little smirk of hers.

"The Wizengamot will now hear the official challenge of the implementation of the Huntsman Directive in the case of Harry Potter," Fudge said. He glared at Dumbledore. "Are you Albus Dumbledore, the challenger?"

"I am," Dumbledore said mildly.

"On what grounds are you challenging the Ministry's decision?"

"I am challenging on the grounds that I believe the Huntsman Directive was illegally implemented," Dumbledore said. A sudden hush fell over the court; whatever they had expected, it had not been that.

"Hem hem," Umbridge coughed, her smirk widening. "Do you mean to say that you believe that the Huntsman Directive is illegal?"

"I did not say that," Dumbledore retorted, smiling up at Umbridge. "The directive itself is the law, and was passed by the full Wizengamot. However, the directive clearly states in Section IV that it can only be used when there is a valid reason that the child is a threat to the Statute of Secrecy. Furthermore, Section VI asserts that, if the guardians are versed in Wizarding law, they must be consulted before any action is taken."

The members of the Wizengamot murmured among themselves for a few moments before Fudge called for silence.

"Unless our information is very much mistaken," he said, his voice making it clear that he considered this absurd. "The Dursley family, with whom Harry Potter has been living since the… unfortunate death of his parents, are Muggles. Thus, they can never be truly knowledgeable of Wizarding law, and thus Section VI does not apply." He smirked at Dumbledore, obviously thinking he had the upper hand.

Dumbledore's eyes, however, continued twinkling. "You are correct, Minister. Vernon Dursley and his family are, in fact, Muggles. However, I remind you that, as per the Last Will and Testament of Lily and James Potter, I, Albus Dumbledore, was named the guardian of Harry Potter. And I like to think that I am, in fact, knowledgeable about Wizarding law."

Fudge gaped at Dumbledore for a moment. Umbridge muttered something to him as she pushed a single piece of parchment from the stack she had in front of her over to the Minister. He looked at it, coughed, and nodded to Umbridge.

"That may be, Dumbledore," he said. "However, you granted guardianship to the Dursley family. Therefore, it is their knowledge of the law that matters, not your own."

'Isn't this the exact same argument that Dumbledore and Umbridge went through after the attempted kidnapping?' Justice mused.

'I guess they couldn't come up with anything better,' Harry thought back before turning his attention back to Dumbledore.

"While I did send Harry to live with his relatives, I never did completely relinquish the right to have a hand in his future, as is mentioned in the file I filled out when I informed the Ministry of my decision. In fact, it was one of the conditions for Harry being allowed to live in the Muggle world; the Ministry felt that it would be prudent for a wizard to keep an eye on the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as memories from his childhood drifted through his mind. Dudley's gang, the cupboard, the endless chores, the feeling that he was never, ever good enough… was Dumbledore saying that he knew about all that and did nothing?

"…besides," Dumbledore continued. "The issue of Section IV has not been addressed at all. Why does the Ministry believe that Harry Potter is a threat to the International Statute of Secrecy?"

"You know as well as I do, Dumbledore," Fudge growled. "He almost killed a man in a blind rage, and if someone hadn't yanked him back from the edge, who knows how many more could have been hurt. If he'd been at his Muggle home when that rage hit him, who knows how much damage he would have done; how much it would have taken to cover it up! It would be like the Ilfracombe Incident all over again!" Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, but Fudge beat him to it. "And that's just the time I know about! I wonder if you've been keeping other incidents covered up, like you did with the little fact that he's a Parselmouth and collapsing all over the place!"

Mutters broke out among the crowd as Fudge finished his rant, panting slightly as he glared down at Harry and Dumbledore. Harry was seething himself, but remained silent as Dumbledore's eyes flicked to him, the piercing blue completely devoid of twinkle. After he was sure he had made his point, the headmaster turned back to Fudge.

"Before I answer your accusations, Mr. Fudge." A shudder passed through the room at the coolness of Dumbledore's voice, and even Fudge looked slightly nervous. "I wonder, are you a trained medical professional?"

"What do you mean by that?" Fudge blustered.

"I am simply curious," Dumbledore answered, his voice slowly slipping back into its normal, mild range.

"I… well, no, but…" The Minister trailed off as Dumbledore stared at him. After a long moment, Dumbledore continued.

"It seems to me that the person most suited to make any judgment on Harry Potter's health, mental or otherwise, would be Madam Poppy Pomfrey, the only official med-witch who has ever had a hand in treating him. If the Wizengamot wishes, I can ask her to come here and give testimony."

"Ah, but can we completely trust her?" Fudge said. "She works at your school, so she is beholden to you."

Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "I think you are quite fortunate that she is not present to hear you say that, Minister," he said. "I can tell you with complete confidence that her first and only real goal is the health of those she takes care of. If she believed that the best way to help Harry was for the Ministry to take custody of him, she would have requested it long ago."

He waited for a moment, but it seemed that Fudge didn't have an answer for him at the moment. "As I informed you the night of the 24th of June, Harry is as sane as any witch or wizard."

"Do you have any proof of that?" Fudge said. "If you're so confident, why is it you're afraid to let your precious Harry Potter out of your sight?"

"There are many who seek to harm Harry, which is the reason he was with his aunt and uncle in the first place," Dumbledore said. "And in answer to your question of proof, please forgive me in answering with another question: do you?"

"Do I what?" Fudge snapped.

"Do you have any proof that Harry is not sane?" Dumbledore asked.

"I… don't know what you're insinuation!"

"I simply find it curious that you find it safe to assume that Harry is unwell. I was under the impression that, though not written into law, there was an understanding of 'innocent until proven guilty.'"

Harry marveled slightly as he watched Fudge squirm. Dumbledore was clearly a master at this dance of words, he had never raised his voice, never become even the slightest bit flustered. Fudge, meanwhile, looked to be on the verge of losing it.

'I think we're winning,' Justice breathed, sounding happier than he had since they had entered the room.

After a few moments of silence, Dumbledore spoke up again. "Unless the Minister or any other member of the Wizengamot has any more questions, I believe that it is time to open the floor to suggestions and debate." The witches and wizards around the room immediately started whispering to each other.

"How are we doing, Professor?" Harry muttered, keeping an eye on the court.

"Better than I had hoped, Harry," Dumbledore said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Poor Cornelius obviously wasn't expecting his first attempt to fail so spectacularly, he would have been better suited spending more time preparing rather than trying to off-balance us by rushing the matter."

'I have a feeling that, even if he had years to prepare, he would still be no match for you,' Justice murmured.

"Why thank you," Dumbledore said when Harry repeated this comment. "It's good to know that I have inspired such confidence in a being such as you."

"Words were never my forte, actions were," Harry said, repeating the spirit's words.

"Who ever said that words and actions were different," Dumbledore said mildly. "I have always believe that words are the most inexhaustible source of magic; capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it."

Before either Justice or Harry could ask for clarification, Madam Bones raised her voice. "Both sides of the debate have brought up valid points, but the time has come for solutions. What are the options that the Wizengamot shall consider?"

Umbridge raised her hand, and got a nod. "Hem hem, I believe the best option is to err on the side of caution and grant the Ministry custody over Harry Potter," she said in her voice of poisoned honey. "As the leading body of the Wizarding World, we are looked to for leadership, and we should grant it rather than shove that responsibility onto… others." Her eyes flashed as she looked at Dumbledore.

"Are there any other recommendations?" Madam Bones called. Harry expected Dumbledore to rise and suggest that Harry be immediately returned to the Dursleys, and in fact he had started to stand before someone else spoke.

"I have a recommendation."

It was one of the elder members of the Wizengamot, a woman who looked even older than Professor Dumbledore. Her eyes still glinted shrewdly, however.

"The Wizengamot recognizes Griselda Marchbanks," Madam Bones said, her voice respectful as she turned in her seat.

"Thank you, dear," Marchbanks said. "I think that Madam Umbridge made some good points," she said, nodding to the toad-faced woman politely. "However, Professor Albus Dumbledore has also spoken a great deal of wisdom. I don't see why they can't both be right."

"Could you please… clarify, Madam Marchbanks," Fudge said, trying to sound calm. She smiled indulgently at him, as if he were a child asking an obvious question to a patient teacher.

"If the Ministry believes that it is no longer safe for Harry Potter to remain in the Muggle world, then perhaps that is for the best. However, I believe that Albus Dumbledore should be the one to decide _where_ in our world young Harry goes."

Dumbledore chuckled quietly before speaking up. "I find that a perfectly acceptable compromise."

"And what of you, Minister?" Madam Bones asked, glancing at Fudge, who remained silent, his eyes flicking from Dumbledore to Marchbanks to the nodding crowd.

'Why would he agree to that?' Justice asked. 'He wants us for himself.'

'Because he doesn't have a choice,' Harry murmured. 'He's trapped. Marchbanks' proposal suits his stated objective: to get me out of the Muggle World. He can't disagree without letting people know that he has an ulterior motive.'

'Brilliant,' Justice said as Fudge's face crumpled.

"I have no disagreement," he said.

"Does the Wizengamot agree to this course of action?" Madam Bones called, getting a general call of consent. "Then it is the finding of the Wizengamot that Albus Dumbledore will decide where Harry Potter will live, so long as he is not returned to the Muggle world."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "If there's nothing else, then I will be taking Harry and letting you all go about your business."

"Was that part of the plan, Professor?" Harry asked as the pair left the courtroom and made their way back to the elevator.

"No, actually," Dumbledore said. "However, I am not surprised that Griselda managed to come up with such a clever solution." He sighed. "I do wish that I could have returned you to the protection of the your relative's house, however, but it was important to guarantee that you did not fall into the Ministry's hands."

Harry shook his head. "No offense, Professor, but I'm not sad to be away from that place."

AN: And the winner of the pairing debate is (drumroll) _**LUNA**_

Frankly, I'm not all that surprised, Luna has always struck me as a character that everyone likes on some level. While some might not love her as much as others, she'll be accepted by anyone. I've already come up with an idea of how to bring the interaction about in a reasonable manner, but it won't be for a while.

Jelly340: I'm glad you're happy, and don't worry, other points of view will be rare, generally confined to the end of a "book" so if you don't want to read them, you don't have to.

Andrew MacKenzie: I don't think I'll be splitting it. I mean, S'TarKan had a much more epic story in Nightmares of Futures Past and he put it all together.

zzxxphaser: Sometimes, change takes time, especially when Harry's not going out of his way to change things like in a Peggy Sue (TV tropes if you don't know the definition, it's not a Mary/Marty Sue clone)

narutofan020: What do you mean by "based on the chapter before it?" All the little snippets were from previous chapters, just different sides of the story.

Skelo: I'm sorry, but I'm confused as to what you mean. I said at the start of the chapter that this was showing what other people were thinking at various points in the story, not changing anything.

almostinsane: Wow, someone who actually likes that I didn't throw canon completely out the window within the first chapter. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Rizaidym: The only problem with that is that Harry and Nagini were on opposite sides. Voldemort would make a better Cobra if he ever figured out how to re-grow his hair.

Kitsune95: Since it's Justice, a spirit, that's inside Harry, he might not be able to get some of the more interesting specializations. I doubt Harry will become a true Arcane Warrior like William from my Flames of the Dragon Mage story, but I've been toying with the idea of him using the Sword of Gryffindor on occasion. Shapeshifting into more than one form will not be easy, unless Justice takes one form and Harry takes another. As for Luna, I've always seen her as a girl with a unique worldview that's based on her willingness to believe without absolute (or in some cases, any) proof. That'll still make her a good partner for Harry, who really needs someone to believe in him at times.


	14. The Corridor

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: I'm making some assumptions/minor changes about how Floo works in this chapter, so please bear with me.

PS: Sorry about any confusion that might have been caused by the fact that I posted and then removed this chapter last night. There were major formatting problems that I had to fix, and I was very tired, which led to more problems. Should be all fixed now.

Chapter 12: The Corridor

Dumbledore walked Harry back to the lobby of the Ministry of Magic, where they were met by Remus Lupin, who looked almost a decade older than he normally did.

"What did they say?" he asked, leaping to his feet and making his way over. "They didn't–"

"The Wizengamot saw fit to allow me to decide where Harry lives, Remus," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Now," he continued, turning to Harry. "There are some forms that I have to fill out here before any decisions are made, so for the moment you'll go with Remus back to Hogwarts." He chuckled at the slightly annoyed look on Harry's face. "Don't worry, I will consult with you before making any permanent decisions. I'll speak with you this evening."

"Thank you," Harry and Justice said. Nodding, Dumbledore turned and made his way back into the Ministry. Lupin, meanwhile, led Harry to an unused Floo fireplace.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to use this unless I was part of the Ministry," Harry said as Remus dropped a sickle into a slot. After a moment, a pinch of Floo powder poured into a small basin on the side.

"To get into the Ministry, you're not," Remus said. "Only Ministry employees know the password to enter this array. However, leaving is another matter entirely: so long as you can get some Floo powder and a fireplace that is connected to the network, you can go anywhere." He handed some of the powder to Harry. "After you. Professor McGonagall was kind enough to open her fireplace for you. Go on, I'll be right behind you."

Bracing himself, Harry tossed the powder in and stepped into the green flames. "Professor McGonagall's Office," he said, trying to make his words as clear as he could despite the ash floating around.

He spent about fifteen seconds spinning before arriving, slightly nauseous. Professor McGonagall didn't even look up from whatever she was writing. "Do be careful not to track ash anywhere," she said.

Harry only had to wait a few seconds for Lupin to arrive, shaking his head. "I never liked Floo," he muttered. "Too much spinning for my taste."

"I completely agree," Harry said as the two made their way out of the office. Harry looked back in time to see Professor McGonagall stand up and walk over to her fireplace.

'I wonder, there must be some restrictions on this…Floo,' Justice thought. 'It almost seems… too easy. What is there to stop someone from breaking into an otherwise secure place using it.'

"Pro… Lupin," Harry said. "Is there any way to stop Floo?"

"Well, anyone with a connection can lock their fireplace down whenever they want," Lupin said, studying Harry with interest. "And quite a few people get a password recognition spell, though not everyone does. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering," Harry said before changing the subject. "How's Sirius," he asked.

"Sirius is well, and he'll be very glad to hear you won. I have a feeling that he'd be wanting to lead a rescue operation if the Ministry had taken you." Harry couldn't help but smile slightly, he was glad to know Sirius cared, though he was also glad it hadn't come to that. "He misses you, though. Do you want me to tell him anything?"

"Tell him I'm doing well," Harry said, "And that I hope to see him soon."

"He'll like that," Lupin said. "Now, I'm afraid I have to go. I have… business, to take care of. I'll pass your message to Sirius." With that, Lupin made his way down the steps, likely heading to the front door.

Harry simply stood in the corridor for a long moment, conferring with Justice.

'What shall we do until Professor Dumbledore returns?' the spirit asked.

"Well, first I want to send a letter to Ron and Hermione," Harry said. "They must be worried." Justice agreed, and the pair made their way to the Gryffindor common room and dashed off a pair of quick letters. They didn't go into much detail, simply informing Harry's friends that things had turned out well and that, hopefully, he would see them soon.

As Hedwig soared out of the Owlery window, Justice spoke again. 'Now what?'

'There's been something I've been meaning to ask,' Harry said. 'You've told me about the basics of magic from Thedas, but not much beyond that. It strikes me that Voldemort might not know how to deal with it, so it would be helpful to learn.'

Justice remained silent for a time, simply thinking. 'At the moment, you would have little success using it,' he said finally. 'As I have mentioned, much of its power comes from replacing finesse with raw strength, strength that you simply do not have at the present time. However, the longer we remain linked, the stronger you grow. In time, you should be able to cast a few spells, though I am likely not the best teacher.'

'So, that's two reasons to strengthen my mana channel; uniting with you, and being able to use Thedian spells.' Harry said. 'I suddenly find myself hoping that school starts soon, so that we can really get started. I'll have to remember not to mention that to Ron; he'll think I'm crazy.'

A wave of humor rolled off Justice. 'Harry,' he said quietly, 'once again, I find myself impressed by your ability to draw strength from the simplest things. Many could stand to learn by your example.'

Harry flushed slightly. "I'm nothing special, really," he muttered, accidently vocalizing his embarrassment. This simply caused Justice to smile again. 'Anyways,' Harry though quickly, 'should we go try the melding trick again, it's been a week since last time.'

'Yes, I suppose it is,' Justice though, the smile fading from his voice. 'The sooner we can overcome this hurdle, the sooner we can be an effective force against Voldemort.'

The pair made their way back to the Room of Requirement, which once again took the form of a small, dim room with cushions. Harry sat down in the center of the room before closing his eyes, bracing himself.

Once again, Harry and Justice let their minds combine, causing Harry's eyes to flash open. Harry felt his senses expand, but just like the first time, any revelations or advantages that might have come from this bond were drowned out in a wave of pain. This time, however, Harry got a brief glimpse of his own hand, wreathed in blue fire, before the meld broke and he fell unconscious.

'We made progress,' he said to Justice when he woke up, sensing a small aura of sadness about the spirit's presence. 'And this is just after two attempts. Once I can really start building up my strength, I'm sure we'll have it in no time.'

'That is true, I suppose,' Justice said. 'So, shall we adjourn to the library now?'

'If you don't mind, I'd like to spend some more time here,' Harry said as the room shifted into a Quidditch pitch, a Firebolt hovering nearby. 'I haven't been in the mood to fly for a while, so I want to catch up.'

'Very well,' Justice said. 'I have been meaning to ask you something about this… game you play.'

The next hour passed with Harry explaining why the position of Seeker didn't completely negate the efforts of the Chasers and Keeper, drawing upon the World Cup game where Krum caught the Snitch but his team still lost as evidence. During this, he learned that, while the Room of Requirement could create a pair of shadow teams for him to practice with and against; neither of them were very skilled. They were so bad that even Slytherin could have beaten them without resorting to dirty tactics. Still, they gave the illusion of an actual game, which would have to do for now.

Later, when the pair had entered the library so that they could be under the watchful eye of Madam Pince, Harry found himself considering a question.

'Justice,' he asked. 'Can you tell me more about yourself?'

'Why do you want to know?' the spirit asked, his aura becoming slightly defensive.

'Well, you know everything about me, but other than a bunch of dreams that didn't make much sense, I don't really know about your past. I mean, I don't even know how you came to be; were you born of other spirits or did you just… I don't know, pop out of the ground somewhere.' After a moment of silence, Harry continued. 'If you still don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but I must admit I'm curious.'

'I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you about my past,' Justice said slowly. 'Though, you will forgive me for leaving certain parts out, won't you. For a spirit, memories are tied to our being, I do not simply remember, I relive, to an extent.' As Harry nodded, Justice took a moment to gather his thoughts before beginning.

'You are correct; I was not born as you mortals think of it. Any denizen of the Fade, be they spirit or demon, begin existence simply as a nexus of the trait that will eventually form their core. This nexus comes from a spark, a powerful act of the trait, an act that reaches through the Veil and into the Fade, where it lies dormant for a time, growing.'

'What was your spark?' Harry asked.

'I do not know,' Justice said. 'By the time my memories begin, I was already well into the second phase of my growth: wisp. The mortals of Thedas believe that all wisps are the remnants of dead spirits, but that is not so, many are only beginning their existence. Very few spirits or demons create wisps upon destruction, most simply break apart and cease to be.'

As Justice spoke, Harry felt the world fall away, leaving him and Justice standing in a strange, undulating world. "Do not worry, your body is safe," Justice said as Harry looked around. "These are my memories, and much like the Pensive of Professor Dumbledore, nothing here can affect you or be affected by you."

Harry nodded, looking around again. "Is that you, over there?" Harry asked, pointing to a ball of violet light that moved smoothly over the landscape.

"Yes, this is my first memory," Justice said. "At this point, I was not sentient, nor would I be for a long time. To clarify, spirits do not think in days and years, but simply in time."

The world around Harry and Justice seemed to blur, indicating that time was passing. "For my remaining time as a wisp, I simply moved from place to place, fulfilling my role to the best of my ability." Several times, images flashed. One had Justice firing a bolt of light at another wisp, this one a blood-red color. Another showed the wisp circling a human protectively.

Over the course of these flashes, the wisp that would become Justice was getting bigger and bigger, and several times limbs seemed to appear. Finally, a memory played out, showing the large wisp twisting and warping, until finally it stood tall, armored from head to toe. The suit Justice wore at this point was much heavier than the one he currently inhabited, and he carried a mace and shield on his back.

"Spirits rarely choose their form consciously," Justice explained, watching his younger self examine his gauntleted hands. "It simply comes to them. For example, my original form was that of a noble knight, while a spirit of Loyalty might take the shape of a Mabari: a breed of dog known for their unflinching commitment."

"So once you got a… body, what changed?" Harry asked.

"Truthfully, not much. I continued to grow as I absorbed more energy. For a long time, I continued as I always had." The images started speeding forward again, showing only the occasional moment of interest: Justice bashing a hideous, deformed creature with his mace, standing over a downed person with his shield thrust forward protectively, and other such deeds of justice.

"How old are you roughly?" Harry asked. Justice laughed quietly

"As I said, spirits do not see time the same way mortals do. There are many that have existed since the beginning of Thedas, and will likely continue to exist until its end. However, if I had to guess, I would say that I am at least five hundred years old."

"Wow," Harry said.

"That is a guess, not fact," Justice said. "My life before leaving the Fade could have been any length of time, from a few weeks to millennia."

"So how did you leave the Fade?" Harry asked.

Before the spirit could answer, a voice seemed to drift from nowhere "Mr. Potter? Are you listening to me?"

The dream world fell away, leaving Harry to look at Madam Pince, who seemed to be mildly annoyed. "Yes, sorry," Harry said. "I just dozed off." The librarian studied Harry, her lips pursed, but seemed to accept his answer.

"I was just about to say that dinner is soon." Madam Pince said.

"Oh, thank you," Harry said, pretending he didn't know that she simply didn't trust him to be near her precious books unsupervised. It took a moment for the implications of her statement to catch up with him.

'I could have sworn we were only looking at your memories for a few minutes,' he said, glancing at the old clock on the wall to see that it was almost six o'clock. 'How has it been several hours?'

'As I said, time behaves differently for spirits.' Justice said, sounding slightly amused. 'You actually were seeing all my memories in detail, but your mind simply did not absorb it all.' He paused before continuing, 'As for your question about the events that led to my leaving the Fade, I will answer it another time.'

Harry was slightly surprised to see that Dumbledore hadn't returned from the Ministry yet. When he asked Professor McGonagall, she told him that the paperwork was taking longer than Dumbledore had expected, though she refused to say why. The rest of the meal passed in silence and Harry excused himself as soon as he could politely do so.

The rest of the evening passed quietly; not even Justice was able to concentrate on the book he and Harry had grabbed to give their hands something to do. Finally, at about eight, one of the former Headmasters made his way into the library.

"Professor Dumbledore's ready to see you now, Potter," the picture said, studying Harry coolly. He seemed like he was mortally offended to be asked to fulfill such a menial task.

"Thank you," Harry said, walking as quickly as he could to get out of the library without attracting Madam Pince's wrath, before breaking into a trot until he reached the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, reading a copy of the Evening Prophet with an expression of mild amusement, and looked up as soon as Harry stepped in. "Well, Harry," he said, setting the paper aside. "After many signatures and a large number of volunteers, the only matter left to be decided is where you will be staying."

"What do you mean by volunteers, sir?" Harry asked, sitting down in his usual seat across from the Headmaster.

"Though the Wizengamot decided that it was I who would decide who your new guardians would be, certain elements seemed to think that I needed… guidance, on the matter. Thus, they saw fit to inform certain families that they deemed worthy of the decision, and these families in turn decided to send me letters expressing their willingness and eagerness to have you as a ward." As Dumbledore said this, he patted a large stack of parchments on the desk next to him.

'And how many of these were Death Eaters?' Justice asked. Dumbledore chuckled when Harry relayed this comment.

"Actually only about two thirds of them, or at least those were the only ones I knew were Death Eaters. Several others were simply wealthy, Pureblood families. In fact, I believe both Augusta Longbottom and Amos Diggory sent a letter. Of course, these letters ultimately have no power other than what I give them." Dumbledore pushed the stack aside and fixed his eyes on Harry's. Harry briefly felt the mental contact before Justice stepped in.

"Now, in an attempt to muddy the water, Cornelius was able to set a month-long time limit on my being able to make any official choice before the matter goes back before the Wizengamot. This means that we should try to move as quickly as possible while still giving the matter due consideration." The twinkle faded slightly from his eyes. "Now, Harry, I can guess the family that you are about to recommend, and I personally think they would be a fine choice. However, there are several factors that I wish to make you aware of before you decide."

"Like what, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Harry, your ultimate location will not be kept secret from the world." Dumbledore said. "Within a day, Voldemort will learn where you are, and will likely begin making plans to eliminate you. The Burrow is not a particularly well-warded place, and the process of making it so would take the majority of our allotted month, and that is just the minimum time, leaving out stages such as testing and correcting minor flaws." Dumbledore's eyes pierced Harry. "Until that warding is truly completed, there is a chance that Voldemort could launch an attack."

Harry felt a chill pass through him. "There must be something else–" he said.

"There is one other factor, of course," Dumbledore said quietly. "The Weasleys will soon be unofficially moving to a safer place. However, the Ministry will demand inspections, which will complicate matters greatly." He smiled sadly at the look on Harry's face. "Again, I say this not because I find the Weasleys unsuitable. In a better time, I would send you there without hesitation. However, with the rise of Voldemort, your safety must once again take absolute first priority. Besides, it is still possible that you could live with them if you truly want to. I simply want you to be aware that it would be… problematic."

'And what is your plan, Albus Dumbledore?' Justice asked.

"Well, Justice," Dumbledore said. "There are several other families that I trust. As I mentioned, the Diggorys and the Longbottoms have both volunteered to shelter you should it become necessary. Also, there is the possibility that I could become your guardian personally, or another Professor."

"You, sir?" Harry asked, blinking. Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling again.

"Surely that is not so surprising. We teachers are flesh and blood adults as well; we are as capable as any other. Besides, it's not like you need help with every little thing, you simply need a place to stay where Voldemort cannot reach you. Hogwarts has served that purpose already, for the most part." The Headmaster studied Harry for a long moment. "I would be surprised if you found this an easy choice, and I won't demand your answer immediately. Please, think on the matter, though I remind you of the month time."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "Sir, can I ask you a question?"

"I believe you just did, Harry, but you may ask another," Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

"Something you said during the Wizengamot hearing has me thinking… You said you were watching at the Dursleys?"

Though Harry had not gone so far as to spell out what he was really asking, Dumbledore seemed to get the message, if the twinkle fading from his eyes meant anything.

"Yes, Harry, I was," he said, sounding tired. "And to answer the question I am sure you were trying to ask, yes, I did know your time there was… less than satisfactory."

'Less than satisfactory,' Justice thought, a hint of anger laced through his mental voice. 'If what happened there is what you consider 'less than satisfactory,' I shudder to think of what you would see as bad.'

"I am not proud of forcing you to go through that, Harry," Dumbledore said. "However, again, your safety was the ultimate concern. The blood wards, built upon the protection of your mother's sacrifice, were the strongest protection I could provide you. Even the wards around Hogwarts, built up over centuries by some of the greatest minds in Wizarding history, are not as effective at holding back Voldemort and his minions as the ones that protected you so long as you lived in your aunt and uncle's house."

"But Voldemort had just been defeated," Harry said. "Are you saying you knew he would rise again?"

There was a long pause as Dumbledore studied Harry, seeming to consider something very important. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. "There were still many Death Eaters at large; angry, violent, and looking for some way to strike back. At least six were captured when they tried to pierce the wards around Privet Drive. As for Voldemort… I believed it very possible that he would one day regain his power. For all his insanity, he is still a brilliant mind. And I knew that, should he return, killing you would be his first priority."

As Harry listened to the old man, his mind drifted back over his life before Hogwarts, and he felt a flash of anger. Some of this must have appeared on his face, because Dumbledore sighed. "In the end, Harry, I was forced to make a choice. Should I leave you in a home where you were clearly not happy, but your safety was guaranteed, at least from the remnants of Voldemort's forces. Or, should I take you away, place you with people who would care for you, love you as you deserved to be, but risk your death at the hands of those Death Eaters that escaped justice? As I said, I truly wish things had gone differently: that your aunt and uncle had found it in their hearts to treat you with love and respect."

"Well," Harry said finally. "I guess I'll see you later, sir." The Headmaster nodded, and Harry left the office and headed back up to Gryffindor tower.

'So,' Justice thought as the pair got ready for bed. 'What is your plan for housing arrangements?'

"I don't know," Harry muttered, putting his face in his hands. "I want to live with the Weasleys… but if they go hurt because Voldemort came for me…"

Justice remained quiet for a time before speaking gently, 'Please, close your eyes, Harry, and enter the Fade. You're body needs rest, and your mind a sanctuary.' Harry nodded before laying his head back on his pillow.

However, he did not find himself in either his dream-dormitory or the copy of the Gryffindor common room. Instead, he stood at the end of a long, dark corridor, the same one Dumbledore had lead him down before they descended the flight of stairs into the court area.

"Why are we here, Justice?" Harry asked, looking at the armored spirit in confusion.

"This… a power is affecting the Fade," Justice said. "Something within us… but outside. There is something else here."

"Can we leave?" Harry asked, shivering. This place… felt cold, wrong.

"A moment," Justice said, closing his glowing eyes behind his helm's face-slit and raising his right hand. Violet-blue fire wreathed its way around his fingers, and after a shaped themselves into a sword. Justice then slashed the air in front of him, slicing a hole in the fabric of the dream. "After you," he said, nodding towards the tear. Harry quickly stepped through into Justice's area of their shared mind, which was looking much less ragged than when Harry had last been here. The spirit followed a moment later, closing the portal behind him.

"Why are we here?" Harry asked.

"This is my realm, and thus I have final control over it," Justice said. "Therefore, it is the area that I can return to at a moments notice."

"So… was that my area?" Harry asked. The spirit shook his head.

"No, I do not believe it was. No, that was another portion of the Fade, one I have not seen before…" Justice closed his eyes thoughtfully. "I will look into it, try and determine exactly what transpired. I'm afraid that means I will not be able to continue my story, at least not tonight."

"That's alright, Justice," Harry said. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

As Harry rose to return to his own area of his mind, Justice spoke up again. "For this portion, I actually do want to tell you, for it is quite possibly the happiest time of my existence before I met you. No, the reason I hesitate is because I want to do that time, and the people in it, justice." Harry chuckled at the likely inadvertent pun. As he sat down in his area of his mind, his thoughts drifted back to the dilemma that plagued him in the waking world.

He loved the Weasleys, and he truly did want to live with them. However, could he justify putting them at risk by his mere presence? Somehow, it just seemed… selfish, to ask more of a family that had already done so much for him.

As Harry's thoughts drifted over the good times he had experienced at the Burrow, he found himself unconsciously comparing it to his life at Privet Drive. Despite Dumbledore's words, he still found himself seething at the knowledge that the Headmaster had known about what he had faced, yet done nothing.

'But is the choice Dumbledore had to make so different from the one I am making?' a small voice said in the back of Harry's mind. 'Whether safety or happiness is more important?'

Putting his face in his hands, Harry took a deep breath. In the end, Dumbledore's plan had worked. He had made it to Hogwarts, and now that the Dursleys had disowned him, he would never have to see them again. That part of his life was over now, and he had to look forward.

As Harry's thoughts continued to drift, he wondered how Justice was doing, and if he would be able to find out what happened before the night was through.

* * *

><p>It seemed, however, that Justice wasn't able to discover much about the strange occurrence in the night.<p>

'It was no demon or other being of the Fade,' Justice told Harry mentally as they made their way down to breakfast the next morning. 'Nor did it seem to be a deliberate assault from an outside mortal.'

'You mentioned that it was something 'within us but outside'. What did you mean by that?' Harry asked.

'I don't know.' Justice said coldly. Harry blinked; normally the spirit was more open with something like this.

'Are you okay?' he asked.

'I am content,' the spirit shot back shortly.

'But–'

'I said I am FINE!' Justice roared, the force of his anger causing Harry to stumble in the physical world. A long moment of silence passed before Justice continued. 'I am sorry… I do not know where that came from. I… have not felt such a thing since… before…'

"What do you mean?" Harry asked worriedly, unconsciously speaking out loud as he leaned against a wall.

'That… was the shadow of Vengeance,' Justice said quietly. 'I knew it would never truly leave… but for it to return so easily…'

'Do you need some time?' Harry asked, continuing on his way.

'I think that would be best. I shall continue looking into the matter. The sooner we know what is happening, the sooner our minds can be at ease, and perhaps, on the way, I can determine what gave rise to… that part of me.'

Harry nodded slowly, pausing outside the door to the Great Hall. 'I guess I'll find something to do, give you some space.'

'That would be appreciated, Harry,' Justice said before quietly vanishing into the back of Harry's mind.

Even though the young wizard knew that, should he need him, the spirit was just a call away, there was a sense of loneliness that gripped him as he made his way to the library after breakfast. It had only been a little over a month since he and Justice had truly started working together, and almost a year since their first "meeting", but already the spirit had left such a mark on his life that he didn't know where he would be without him.

After a few minutes of attempting to work on his Transfiguration homework, he finally gave it as his mind continued to race. It wasn't just Justice that was distracting him, it was what to do about living arrangements. Deciding he needed some fresh air, Harry left the library and made his way up to the Owlery.

Despite all of Dumbledore's cautioning words, Harry's heart's wish was to live at the Burrow. He had always been welcomed there, and the thought of living in a home that accepted him rather than grudgingly tolerated his presence was an appealing one. However, the dark words the Headmaster had used restrained him: Ron had put himself in harm's way several times for Harry's sake: he didn't want to force the whole family to go through that.

Remaining at Hogwarts also had its appeal, but over the time he had been here, he had noticed that the school just wasn't the same without the hustle and bustle of students running around. Even if Harry never spoke to the majority of them, even if he outright disliked several, it was still… a bit disconcerting, to be the just about only person in the school.

Staying with another Wizarding family, even if they were on his and Dumbledore's side, seemed like a betrayal. He had never met Neville's grandmother, and he still remembered Mr. Diggory's hostility towards him before the Third Task. No, he doubted he would be able to bring himself to live in either of those places.

As Harry stared helplessly out across the grounds, his mind racing, Justice did the mental equivalent of poking his head through a door. 'Do you need to talk to me?' he asked quietly.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think this is something I have to do on my own," Harry said wanly. Despite his and Justice's bond, he remained his own person, and he couldn't run off and rely on the spirit to help him out of every little problem. As he thought this, Harry was slightly glad that Justice had been teaching him to block out his thoughts that he didn't want the spirit to see.

'Very well, Harry,' Justice said. 'But know that, whatever you choose, I'll be here to support you.' Harry nodded, and the spirit slipped back to his own work.

Harry didn't know how long he stood at the top of the Owlery, wrestling with the magnitude of the decision before him: remain here, where he was as safe as he could be with Voldemort out there, or go to the Weasleys, where he would be happier but put everyone at risk.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the door opening. He turned to see a shaggy black dog standing there, panting happily.

"Sirius," he breathed as the dog rose to its hind legs, shifting into the image of his godfather.

"Harry, how are you?" Sirius asked as he stepped forward, wrapping his arms briefly around Harry. "You look like you're wrestling with some great, world-changing dilemma."

"How did you know?" Harry asked, causing the older wizard to let out a bark of laughter.

"The same way I knew something was bothering you when you visited me in the cave: whenever your father had to do some heavy thinking, he either came here by himself or went flying." He leaned back against the wall, grinning. "So, what were you thinking about?"

"After the case yesterday, Dumbledore asked me where I wanted to live, and I'm… trying to decide." Harry said finally. "I want to go to the Burrow, but I don't want to put the Weasleys in danger, either. I could stay here, but…"

The smile faded from Sirius' face as he pondered Harry's problem. "That is quite a problem, isn't it? Are you leaning either way?"

"Not yet, no," Harry said.

The pair stood in silence for a while before Sirius spoke. "Harry, I'm sure you know that I can't make this decision for you, but I do promise that I'll support you, whichever way you choose." Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

When asked what was so funny, Harry said; "Someone else said almost exactly the same thing to me."

"Who?" Sirius asked before narrowing his eyes slightly. "Dumbledore, or that spirit in your head." Harry blinked in surprise before remembering that Sirius had been in the Headmaster's office when Harry admitted Justice's presence to Dumbledore.

"It was Justice," Harry said.

"Is he still there?" Sirius asked, a strange note in his voice. When Harry nodded, Sirius took a deep breath before continuing. "Mind if I have a little talk with him?"

"He can hear you, you know," Harry said as he felt Justice in the back of his mind again; apparently he could hear what was going on around Harry even from wherever in the Fade he had been.

"So," Sirius said. "What have you two been up too?"

"Not a whole lot, really," Harry said. He had finally recognized the tone Sirius was taking: wariness. Thus, he felt that telling his godfather that he and Justice were working on how to allow him to more effectively manifest himself. Sirius didn't look convinced, so Harry had a sudden thought. "Hey, have you ever heard of something called the Room of Requirement?"

"No, what is it?" Sirius asked.

"It's a room here at Hogwarts that can be almost anything, based on what the person who finds it needs," Harry said, leading the way out of the Owlery.

As expected, Sirius looked excited, though he tried to hide it behind a skeptical raise of his eyebrow. "Harry, are you saying that you found something the Marauders, the greatest pranksters in the history of Hogwarts, failed to discover?"

"Stranger things have happened," Harry said. "It was more of an accident than anything, but I've found a use for it."

The pair soon arrived at the corridor, and Harry paced back and forward before the hidden door, concentrating on his wish for a Quidditch pitch. Soon, the entrance appeared, copying the form of the doors leading into the real Quidditch field out on the grounds.

"Wow…" Sirius said as he stepped in, looking around. "Harry, this is amazing! This room can become anything?"

"Just about," Harry said. "Professor McGonagall banned me from going on the grounds, so I needed somewhere else to fly."

Sirius laughed at that. "Oh, that's something your father would have said," he chortled. "Though I'm sad to hear you've been locked up too."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Sirius' face fell slightly. "I've… been forced to stay indoors," he said. "Since the Ministry's still got their heads stuck in the dirt about Voldemort, and that traitorous coward Peter's probably told him about Snuffles, Dumbledore's been having me stay at Head… home."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "What were you about to say?" he asked.

Sirius studied Harry for a few seconds before looking around, as if expecting eavesdroppers. "You deserve to know, no matter what Dumbledore says," he said quietly. "Now, you didn't hear this from me, but there's a secret organization known as the Order of the Phoenix, which Dumbledore founded during the last war to stop Voldemort. We've reconvened and are trying to stop things from getting out of hand, though with the Ministry's attitude, things could be going better."

Harry felt his heart speed up. One of the worst things he had thought about over the week preceding the hearing was how much time Voldemort was getting to prepare while the Ministry looked the other way. It was good to know that Dumbledore was already making moves to stop the maleficarum before he got too powerful. "And the headquarters of this Order is in your home?" Harry asked.

"Yep, my family's estate." Sirius sounded quite bitter as he said that. "I haven't set foot in the place since I ran away, and now I'm stuck in it again."

"You ran away?" Harry asked. Sirius sighed.

"Yes, I did. My family was a bunch of pure-blood supremacists, the lot of them." Sirius looked around moodily. "My mother and I were constantly fighting over it, and one day I just couldn't take it any more. Your grandparents on your father's side were kind enough to take me in when I showed up on their doorstep." He took a deep breath. "Still, the house has its uses. It's warded in almost every way imaginable, and now that Dumbledore's the Secret Keeper, even if Voldemort could get through, he'd have to find the place first."

"So," Harry said after a minute's silence. "If Dumbledore wanted you to stay there, what are you doing here?" He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but maybe there was something more to it.

"I just wanted to talk to you," Sirius said. "Since Dumbledore won't let me send any letters at the moment, since Hogwart's probably being watched and there aren't other owls flying to provide cover, any letter would be quickly intercepted." He grinned. "Still, I've been sneaking around for years, so it wasn't hard to slip out."

Harry felt conflicted about this. On the one hand, it was very nice to see his godfather again, but what Sirius had done was incredibly reckless. In the end, he decided not to complain. "It's good to see you, Sirius," he said quietly.

"You too, Harry," Sirius said. "I think Dumbledore's planning to move you to Headquarters as soon as he can, unofficially. Now that the Ministry's not able to demand to see you at a moment's notice, at least for the time being. I've heard he's planning on getting your friends Ron and Hermione there as well."

Harry thought back over his time at Hogwarts. It had certainly been productive, but the lack of contact with anyone except Justice was getting to him. It would be great to see his friends again. "That's good to know," he said. "So, what's the Order up to right now?"

"At the moment, not much," Sirius said, though his tone was a bit too shifty for Harry to entirely believe him. A moment of silence passed before Sirius grinned. "Well, we have this nice Quidditch field, it seems a shame to not use it." Harry laughed along with him, and soon the pair were flying together, destroying one of the pitiful room-generated teams. It seemed that Sirius had been a mean beater in his day, and though his skills had atrophied over his time in Azkaban, he was still quite good.

Finally, they left the room. Sirius looked at Harry. "I'm sorry, but I have to get back. Lupin promised he'd cover for me, but it'd be best not to make him worry."

"Right, I'll see you," Harry said. The pair clasped hands for a moment before Sirius shifted back into his dog form and loped out of sight. Harry smiled, his godfather hadn't remembered to get a clearer answer on what he and Justice had been doing, though in return he hadn't been able to ask more about the Order. Also, he now knew that he wouldn't be locked up without his friends for the summer if he stayed at Hogwarts. That made his decision easier, especially if the Weasleys had to stay at the Burrow rather than go to the defended headquarters if he chose to live there.

The rest of the day passed with Harry in the library, working on his summer assignments while Justice continued to try and determine what had caused the strange dream last night.

Finally, just a few minutes before dinner, the spirit found came up with an answer.

'There is something else in your psyche,' he said worriedly. 'It is almost as if… something has fused itself onto your soul.'

'What?' Harry thought. 'What could have done that?'

'I do not know, but it is deeply entrenched. I tried briefly to remove it, but I do not believe that I could do so without causing irreparable damage. Whatever it is, it is what brought about the dream.'

'If you could find out more about it, that would be nice,' Harry said.

'Oh, I intend to.'

'And… anything on your… outburst?'

'No.' Harry noted his friend's frustration and decided to let him have some space. Fortunately, Dumbledore was at dinner, and Harry caught his eye. After they were done, the pair walked up to Dumbledore's office.

"So, Harry, how was your talk with Sirius?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.

"How did you…" Harry asked, causing the headmaster to chuckle.

"I was there when he returned, and he told me where he'd been. I can't say I blame him for coming here, though I do wish he would have at least asked first." He smiled at Harry. "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I've decided that I'll stay here," Harry said. "Still, I'll be able to visit the Weasleys, right?"

"I don't see why not," Dumbledore said. "As you know, it will not be for another month that you will have to officially live anywhere, so it will be easier for you to move without attracting Voldemort's attention." As the pair stepped into the circular office, Dumbledore walked over to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. "In fact, Molly Weasley was kind enough to recommend just that. She and the others have been dying to see you, what with everything that's happened."

"I'd love to go," Harry said immediately.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until four days later, four days that seemed to crawl by at a snails pace, that Harry actually left Hogwarts and made his way to the Burrow, due to Dumbledore wanting to ensure that no whisper reached Voldemort's ears. Finally, though, Harry found himself stepping out of the fireplace in the main room of the Burrow. He was immediately seized in a tight hug by Mrs. Weasley.<p>

"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you again," she said. "We heard from Arthur that the Ministry had decided that they couldn't justify taking you, but I can't pretend I wasn't worried." She let Harry go and stepped back to get a look at him. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Harry said, looking around the kitchen. Ron, Ginny and Hermione were standing back a bit, watching, but there was no sign of any other members of the family.

"Arthur and Percy are still at work," Mrs. Weasley said, glancing up at the clock that depicted the location of every member of her family. Indeed, the two hands labeled Arthur and Percy Weasley were pointed at Work, while the rest were clustered around Home. "Still, they should be home before too long."

Suddenly, a pair of _cracks_ echoed through the room, causing everyone to jump. Harry's hand twitched towards the pocket of his robes as he felt a flash of magic in the room, but he stopped himself when he realized that it was only Fred and George appeared, both grinning mischievously.

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, regaining her composure as she rounded on her twin sons. "I know that you're proud of yourselves for passing your Apparition test, but must you use it so often?"

"Practice makes perfect, Mum," Fred said easily, brushing some imaginary dust off of his sleeve.

"Besides, we thought Harry would like a practical demonstration of what he'll be able to do one day," George continued, winking.

'They have a point,' Justice thought. 'One day, we really must figure out how that works, it would be a very useful skill to have.' He huffed. 'Still, it seems like a waste of energy, the stairs are right over there.'

"Does that mean you'll stop now?" Ron muttered, rubbing his shin that he'd banged when the pair had appeared. The twins grinned at each other.

"We don't know, Ronnikins, maybe it will, maybe it won't," they said together, causing Ron to roll his eyes as his ears turned pink.

"Boys, stop teasing your brother," Mrs. Weasley said. "Now, Harry," she said, turning back to him. "You're staying the night, yes?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Well," Fred said after a long moment. "I guess George and I will be heading back upstairs. Things to do, things to do." The pair started their turn to Disapparate.

Before they could leave, Mrs. Weasley called their names. "What sort of… things?" she said, her voice low as she glared at the pair of them suspiciously.

"Entirely safe and educationally related things," George said with a straight face. Harry, however, was sure that it had something to do with the Triwizard winnings he had given them for their joke shop.

Mrs. Weasley pinned them to the wall for a few more seconds with her gaze before finally relenting. "See to it that it is," she grumbled.

"Yes, Mum," the twins said before vanishing with another loud _crack_.

"Oh, those two…" Mrs. Weasley muttered, turning and walking into the living room.

"Well, I guess we'll head upstairs," Ron said after a long moment. Harry and Hermione nodded, making their way up the rickety stairs.

Ron said. "So, what's it been like at Hogwarts?"

"It's been quite," Harry said finally. "I've even started on my homework."

"You say that like it's a bad thing!" Hermione huffed as Ron started laughing. "Really, good for you for not leaving it till the last minute like you usually do. I mean, there must have been something else for you too do at Hogwarts.

"Have you heard from Sirius?" Ginny asked. Harry blinked at her, his jaw moving soundlessly, causing her to giggle. "I heard Mum telling Ron off for not letting her know that he was consorting with the infamous Sirius Black, and why he hadn't told her that he was innocent. I just _had_ to get the rest of the story after that."

"'Cause she wouldn't have believed me," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Well, to answer your question, yes," Harry said. "He came to visit Hogwarts a few days ago."

"Really?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It was, a bit," Harry agreed. "But I was happy to see him. Besides, he told me a bit about what was going on, now that Voldemort's risen." Predictably, everyone else in the room flinched a bit at the sound of the name, but Harry plowed on. "Apparently, Dumbledore's reformed a group that he founded to fight Voldemort called the Order of the Phoenix."

"Wait, I've heard that name," Ron said. "I heard Mum use it a few days ago, but she refused to answer me when I asked what it was." He blinked. "Do you think she's in the Order?"

"It's likely," Hermione said. "I mean, she was there when Fudge denied that You-Know-Who had risen, and she did say that Professor Dumbledore could count on her and Mr. Weasley."

A long moment of silence filled the room before Harry spoke up again. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get Sirius to tell me much about what they're actually doing." After a moment of silence, Harry continued. "So, what have you been up to this summer?"

As it turned out, not much. Hermione had actually finished her homework and was now in the process of going through sixth year spells, having already exhausted the fifth year spells last summer. Ron and Ginny, meanwhile, had seen their brother Bill off (though apparently he had hinted that he would be returning soon.)

"The Prophet's been a right nightmare," Ron grumbled. "What with all the insults they've been slinging at you." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I mean, really, who in their right mind would doubt _Dumbledore_? Everyone's always said he's the greatest wizard of the age, why would then not listen to him now, when it's really important?"

"They're scared," Harry said coldly. "They're scared and people do stupid things when they're scared. They think that if they just bury their heads and ignore the problem it'll all go away."

"Well that's stupid. Snape doesn't go away when I ignore _him_!" Ron muttered "It'd be nice if he did, though. It would save everyone a lot of trouble." Everyone laughed slightly at the joke, and like that the tension was broken, at least for the moment.

The group ate lunch a few minutes later, and then slipped outside with Fred and George to play some Quidditch. Hermione brought one of her books out with her and quickly buried her nose in it, muttering something about boys and their sports. Finally, several hours later, the windswept team made their way back to the Burrow to help Mrs. Weasley prepare dinner.

Mr. Weasley returned not long after, looking worried. "I'm afraid Percy won't be coming back for a while," he said to his wife. "The Minister asked him to come meet with him, but didn't say why."

"Is he still under investigation about Crouch?" Ron asked.

"He is, and that's what worries me," Mr. Weasley said sadly, looking at his plate. "Fudge is desperate for a scapegoat to pin the whole thing on, especially since Dumbledore's still trying to convince everyone You-Know-Who's back. At the moment, unfortunately, I'm afraid Percy will be the easiest target, and right now the Ministry seems set on taking the path of least resistance." Mr. Weasley sighed and glanced up at the clock, where Percy's name was still on work. "He loves his job at the Ministry, I don't know what he'd do if he was fired, especially over something like this."

"We don't know that he'll be punished," Mrs. Weasley said bracingly. "He had wonderful NEWTs results, and he's a hard worker. I doubt they'd fire someone like him over a mistake."

From the look on her face, it was clear that she was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.

The rest of dinner passed in silence, every person at the table caught up in their own thoughts. Finally, as the last bites were being eaten, the clock spun.

"Percy's coming home!" Mrs. Weasley said, jumping to her feet and rushing to open the door. A moment later, Percy entered the room, looking tired but satisfied.

"How did the meeting go?" Mr. Weasley asked, rising as well.

"It went quite well, actually," Percy said, smiling as he looked around. When his eyes found Harry, however, his smile flickered and started looking forced. Still, he pressed on. "The Minister saw fit to promote me."

"Really? That's wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley said,

'This seems… sudden,' Harry thought warily, and as he glanced at Mr. Weasley he saw the slight frown that meant that he seemed to agree.

'This is too soon,' Justice said, coming back from the part of Harry's mind where he had been hanging out while Harry spoke to his mortal friends. 'I may not know much of bureaucracy myself, but it does seem odd that someone who was on the line to be removed recently would get a promotion so soon…'

"So, where did you get promoted to, son?" Mr. Weasley asked in a deliberately calm voice. Percy turned back to him, looking happy, maybe even a bit smug.

"The Minister asked me to take a position in his own office," he said. "He said that my diligence to doing my job marks me as someone who can be trusted to put in the extra hours when needed." These words made Harry's eyes narrow: from scapegoat to having a place in the most powerful office in the government was _certainly_ too much of a jump for this to be natural.

Again, Mr. Weasley seemed to agree, as he continued in his calm, yet firm voice. "Percy, does anything about this strike you as… odd?" he asked carefully.

"No, Father," Percy said immediately. "Why should it?"

"Percy," Mr. Weasley said. "What were you doing most of the time last week?"

"I…" Percy said defensively. "I was defending myself at the inquiry."

"Percy, you know as well as I do most workers wouldn't have survived an inquiry like that," Mr. Weasley said, still keeping a calming note in his voice. "I had confidence that you would be able to keep yourself from being fired… but promoted to Fudge's own office? That strikes me as a little… odd."

Percy bristled, the tips of his ears turning red. "I'm sorry, Father," he said through gritted teeth. "I fail to see the connection, or any problem."

"Percy, Fudge doesn't believe that You-Know-Who has returned," Mr. Weasley said. "He's more focused on discrediting Professor Dumbledore that on preparing. The thing is, he knows I support Dumbledore." There was a pause before Mr. Weasley continued. "Percy, have you considered the idea that Fudge wants you in his office so he can spy on the family, and through us, Dumbledore?"

Percy reacted as if his father had just tried to hex him. "I fail to see why people should believe Dumbledore!" he said, his voice beginning to rise. "You-Know-Who is dead, and has been for fourteen years."

'Impossible…' Harry and Justice thought together, staring at Percy. They knew that there were many witches and wizards that didn't believe that Voldemort was back, but they had never expected that it would be someone so close.

"Percy… listen to what you're saying!" Mr. Weasley said, starting to struggle to keep his voice calm. "What possible reason would _Professor _Dumbledore have to lie about something as serious as this?"

"Oh, it's entirely possible he really believes that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back," Percy ground out, his eyes flicking to Harry again as a scowl formed on his face. "As it is, though, the evidence is… sorely lacking."

"You don't believe Harry?" Mr. Weasley said quietly, his hands clenching the table as his eyes narrowed.

"The Minister saw fit to inform me of certain interesting things about Potter," Percy said. "Did you know he almost killed a man in rage?"

"If you're talking about Crouch Jr," Harry heard himself saying, somehow keeping his voice even despite the rising tide within. "It's called _self-defense._"

Percy ignored Harry's words, looking back at his father. "He's obviously cracked. Saw something in that maze that unhinged him, and attributed it to You-Know-Who."

"Don't you dare talk about Harry like that!" Ron shouted, leaping to his own feet, his face flushed with anger.

"Ronald, please," Mr. Weasley said carefully, placing a hand on his youngest son's shoulder before turning his attention back to Percy. "Ron's right, Percy. Harry's the only reason you still have a sister, have you forgotten that?"

For a moment, it looked like Percy was going to snap out of whatever delusion he had built for himself as his eyes flicked to Ginny, who was watching with wide eyes. However, his gaze hardened and he drew himself up. "I have not forgotten that, Father," he said stiffly. "And that's the only reason I've given him the benefit of the doubt as long as I have. He's a troublemaker, a menace, a bad influence on everyone around him."

Justice growled furiously in the back of Harry's head as Percy spat these words. 'You know nothing, you willfully blind fool!' he snarled.

Ron opened his mouth to shout again, but Mr. Weasley squeezed his shoulder.

"Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Hermione, Harry," he said quietly, his voice laced with ice. "Please step outside for a moment, Molly and I need to talk to Percy."

Something in Mr. Weasley's tone, normally so jovial and calm, demanded complete obedience, and everyone he had named quickly left.

"Take these," Fred said quietly when they reached the top of the stairs, handing out a bundle of fleshy-colored strings. "These are one of our new inventions, Extendable Ears. Still in the testing phase, but they should work. Put them in your ears and will them to go over to listen in." Everyone did as he said, and after a moment the voices in the kitchen were once again as loud as if they were standing right there.

"…Completely irresponsible!" Percy was saying furiously. "Just because Potter's a household name doesn't mean that the Ministry has to bow to his every whim!"

"Harry has never asked anyone to bow to him!" Mr. Weasley snarled. "I remind you again that he saved your sister's life! He has lived in this house! He is as good as your brother, and yet you doubt him!"

"I think that when people started doubting him over his illegal entry into the Triwizard Tournament, he thought he had to remind us all why we called him the Boy-Who-Lived!" Percy shot back. "Besides, he is not brother of mine!"

"Then why does Dumbledore trust him?" Mr. Weasley asked grimly over Mrs. Weasley's gasp.

"Dumbledore's snapped, plain and simple. He's old, lost his touch. If anyone's blind, Father, it's you! Can't you see that you're dragging your family down? Oh, wait; you've always done that! What's some more!? I've been struggling against your stupid, Muggle-loving legacy ever since I set foot in the Ministry! It's because of your crazy fascination with them that you're still stuck in that dingy office and this family never has a Knut to spare!"

"Percy… please…" Mrs. Weasley said, sounding on the verge of tears. "You don't mean that…"

"I mean every word, Mother," Percy said disdainfully. "It pains me to say it, but it must be said. I am thinking about my _real_ siblings, the ones that are being dragged down by Father. The Ministry won't turn a blind eye to traitors for long, and when that day comes I don't want Ron and Ginny to be caught up in the backlash! If my service can allow me to convince the Minister that they had no hand in this nonsense, then I will take it!"

Ron was cursing violently under his breath as he pressed his Extendable Ear deeper into his real one. Ginny and Hermione's faces were pale, their jaws hanging open. Fred and George simply looked cold, almost as if they had expected this.

"Percy, You-Know-Who has returned," Mr. Weasley said stiffly. "Dumbledore has guided the Wizarding World for decades. Why, not even three years ago Fudge was still asking for advice on every little matter. And yet now, when we need him most, now the Ministry chooses to doubt him because it's hard!" He took a deep breath. "I have news for you, Percy Ignatius Weasley, there is sometimes a divide between the _easy_ thing and the _right_ thing. I know I am dedicated to doing the right thing, but if you cannot bring yourself to make that sacrifice…"

Percy started shouting, making the Extendable Ears a bit redundant. "What, you're going to disown me! Good, if you're so bent on following that lunatic Potter and his brain-dead handler Dumbledore into political suicide, I want nothing to do with this family! Go on; destroy yourself for all I care, you miserable excuse for a wizard! Go live with the Muggles you seem to love so much; maybe they'll accept your crackpot ideas! My loyalty is, and always will be, to the Ministry!" Footsteps stormed across the room below them, and all the Weasley children and Hermione scampered upstairs as Percy threw the door open so hard it dented the wall it hit. Harry, however, simply stood and stared as Percy, who he'd always thought of as a rational person, stalked past without a glance and went upstairs.

"PERCY!" Mrs. Wesley cried, dashing out after her son. "Percy… please don't do this…" Tears were pouring down her face as she stared at his silent, retreating back.

Several minutes later, Percy stormed down the stairs again, levitating a pair of trunks and holding a briefcase. "I regret to do this, Mother," he said formally. "If, somehow, you and Father see reason before Dumbledore leads you to ruin, I'll be happy to speak with you about it." With that, he threw the door open.

"PERCY!" Mrs. Weasley shouted again, "Come back, we can talk now! I know there are–"

"Don't bother," Justice snarled. "You can lead a man to truth, but you cannot make him see. The willfully blind will remain so until they choose to open their eyes, and they must accept the consequences of their misguided actions."

It took Harry a moment to realize that the spirit's words had been out loud and come from his own mouth. It didn't take a glance at his hand to know that blue fire was wreathing him.

Everyone stared at Harry (The Weasley children had crept back to the landing above as Percy descended, and Mr. Weasley had stepped out of the kitchen, looking far older than he had an hour before.) Percy simply glared at Harry for a long moment before leaving the Burrow. A few seconds later, there was the unmistakable _crack _of Apparition.

Harry turned, walking up the stairs two at a time, his thoughts racing. 'Justice, what happened?'

'I believe that is obvious,' Justice shot back, anger clouding his voice. A moment passed before Justice continued more quietly. 'I am sorry, that was uncalled for. I spoke through you, though it was not my intention.'

'But how, we haven't managed to get the unity thing right yet,' Harry thought back.

'I can speak through you any time you let me; it takes only a tiny sliver of power. I simply… choose not to, since it reminds me of… what I've done.' Justice paused to think. 'But how did it rise so quickly? I am angry at Percy Weasley, but that should not have been enough by itself…' He stopped, and Harry could feel his thoughts racing.

'What?' Harry asked as he stepped into Ron's room. 'What have you realized?'

'The parasite attached to your soul… it is so obvious!' Justice said. 'Every time I approach it, the same dark anger that gave rise to Vengeance begins to fill me again! How did I not notice before!?'

"Harry?" Hermione whispered as she and Ron stepped into the room, looking nervous. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry ignored her for a moment, still talking with Justice. 'How do we stop it?' he thought desperately. 'We've come too far to lose control now.'

'Now that I recognize it, I can block its effect, at least for a time,' Justice said. 'However, we will have to come up with a more permanent solution.'

"Mate, snap out of it!" Ron said, waving his hand in front of Harry's face.

"Sorry, I was just… thinking," Harry said, turning to look at the others.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione whispered. "I thought that had… gone away…"

Harry took a deep breath. 'Justice?' he though.

'I have hidden from them long enough,' the spirit said sadly. 'If the deception continues, they will be right to stop trusting us.'

'Thank you, Justice,' Harry said, opening his eyes.

"Ron, Hermione, I'd like you to meet my friend, Justice."

AN: ~_Cliffhanger, hanging from a cliff… and that's why he's called Cliffhanger_~

First, I'm terribly sorry that this chapter took so long. I hit a bit of writers block: I knew where I was, and I knew where I wanted to be, but I couldn't see the path for the life of me, and college didn't help matters. Still, I choked this mess out eventually, hope it's up to snuff. I wasn't planning on revealing Justice to Ron and Hermione for a while longer, but the opportunity presented itself. Please read and review.

BN: Then I screwed up by not informing him when I finished proofing it for him. Blame me far more than him.

Responses:

raw666: It's quite doubtful that more of Thedas will arrive (at most, a Templar who was investigating would make their way through, but that's unlikely.) Voldy will likely discover more about Justice, but not for a while yet.

almostinsane: I assume you mean at the Dursleys, and I hope I explained his reasons to satisfaction in the chapter.

syed: Harry will start using Thedian spells, but for the moment he's simply too weak (His mana pool's really low.) As for learning them, Harry will meet some of the same rules I place on my true Dragon Age mages: he'll have one branch he's really good at (probably DA:O Spirit,) and he'll use lighting as well (Because the connection with the scar is just too good to pass up) I don't think ghosts and spirits are the same thing, so they'll be their own thing, and saying any more would be too much spoilers : ).

Rizaidym: … Let's just say those things were brought into the Room beforehand and kept in the storage room (where the diadem is) rather than being created from magic, why don't we?

Dur'id the Druid: I'm glad you like it.

Mikoto-chan92: One of my greatest concerns was keeping Harry from becoming godlike (I hate stories that make him like that without and _unbelievably_ good reason.)

narutofan020: Harry will likely keep the blue fire in reserve, but he and Justice are working on it.

david9999: Harry will likely be a mix: he'll use some of the DA2 Justice tree abilities as well as some from Spirit Warrior.

Guest: That's a likely reason people enjoy Luna, besides the fact that she's just plain likable.

Andrew MacKenzie: I know what you mean about school, it's one of the reasons I'm slow on updating. Hope you're doing well.

Tepoztecal: Oh, yes, Justice is going to _hate_ Umbridge, and there will be several close calls with his darker aspects when she's involved.

Matthew Blackheart: Glad you like

xFactor101: Glad to have you back. During the fight with Crouch Jr. (off-screen) J!Harry used a fair bit of telekinesis, but you're right in saying that they haven't used it a lot. They will, though, they will.

Sevenar: Sorry it was slow, but I didn't want to just toss canon right out the window the second Justice arrived (It wasn't like Justice was trying to make everything different, he wasn't even awake for most of it.) Now that he's on the field, things will start to spin out of control. Luna will be introduced properly in due time, and I hope Dumbledore didn't come off as a super-manipulative jerkface, because that was not what I was going for.

I have to disagree with you on Hermione showing no signs of liking Ron, in the 3rd book she cried after she thought Sirius almost killed him and was quite torn up about not talking to him and Harry (she hugged Ron as soon as they made up.) I'll try to make Ron more tolerable for you, though.

IAmVect: Yes, Luna's point of view will be interesting.

Kithrin: I like Luna too.

TeninChwang: Harry has been learning spells, working with a fake wand in the Room so as not to be accused of underage magic (he isn't technically in school, just in the building. It's a slim distinction, but one that the Ministry, in its determination to cause trouble, would likely jump on.) That just wasn't focused on as much. Besides, magic isn't as special to him as it is to us; for us it is a fantastic thing, for Harry, it is becoming a simple fact of life. He played some Quidditch as well because he considers it fun, because Harry's a human being, not a robot.

About experience, it is unlikely that Voldemort only faced Muggles. If it was only Muggles dying, then there are likely a large portion of the Wizarding World that simply wouldn't care. He was going up against wizards and witches, and with every fight he wins, he learns what works and what doesn't. As you said, he fought a guerrilla war, which is not an easy thing to do. In Book 5, he went one-on-one with Dumbledore and only barely came off worse, even escaping with Bellatrix.

I hope I answered your concerns.


	15. Trust and Honor

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

Chapter 13: Trust and Honor

Deep within the bowels of the Ministry of Magic was a sprawling complex of rooms collectively known as the Department of Mysteries. It was here that the subjects and artifacts that were considered fantastic, rare, or dangerous even by wizarding standards were locked away to be studied by the Unspeakables: witches and wizards sworn to silence about the potentially terrible power held within the walls. They could not always claim to truly understand what they find within their vaults. Still, they were generally well adapted to the strange and dangerous nature of their work.

However, sometimes they ran across things that frightened even them.

Broderick Bode sighed as he looked at the roll of parchment in his hand, the words on it barely sinking in. On a table in front of and between him and a group of younger Unspeakables lay two bodies. One was clearly a witch; and had been, until recently, a Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries The second was a bit of a mystery, as it was the cause of the young witch's death, by way of a strange poison that lurked in what little blood was left in its veins after it had been found almost a year ago in the forest near the sight of the Quidditch World Cup.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be much of a surprise, poison killed people all the time. What was strange, however, was the fact that, ever since the body had been brought into St. Mungo's, the toxin had become more and more virulent in the subject's blood, resisting all attempts to tame or neutralize it. At first, if some blood had gotten on someone's skin, it would act no different than regular blood. Now… Bode winced slightly as he looked at the witch's face, contorted in agony and covered in dark growths. A single drop had done this to her, and though it had taken almost a week, that had been a week of agony in which the best minds in St. Mungo's hadn't been able to so much as ease her pain, let alone save her life. As soon as this happened, the body had been moved to the Department of Mysteries for further study.

"Alright," his fellow senior Unspeakable, Edwards, said. "Let's take this from the top. This… was… Healer Maria Hall, henceforth to be known as Subject Beta. As you should be aware, her blood has almost entirely corrupted by an unknown substance." Edwards nodded towards a dark red, almost black, vial sitting on the counter as he said this.

Bode continued where his comrade had left off. "Both the Department and St. Mungo's have looked through the books and haven't found any sort of match, so we're dealing with a complete unknown. What we're trying to figure out is how Subject Origin…" he gestured towards the dead man, "…was able to survive so long with this… taint inside him. St. Mungo's aging spells put him at about thirty at the time of death by blood-loss due to massive stab trauma, but the poison had entered his bloodstream and undetermined, though long, period of time ago, as shown by the fact that it had completely bonded with the cells. Somehow, he was immune to its effects, but as soon as he died, it started getting out of control." He took a deep breath. "What is truly fascinating, however, is the fact that the poison is somehow preventing decomposition."

One of the younger Unspeakables raised his hand. "Do we know if Origin was born with it? It could be some sort of defense mechanism."

Edwards shook his head. "I'm afraid we don't know. It's possible, I suppose, but if that were so, then why haven't we seen it before. By all appearance and tests, Origin was completely human, though magically gifted to an almost absurd degree. Still, I guess it is possible, though we won't know until we finally figure out just who he was." That was another thing that had made this whole mess far more complicated than it had to be, the fact that no one in the wizarding world seemed to have heard of this man.

A long moment of silence passed before Bode shook his head. "Well, we're not getting anywhere just standing around. Let's begin the tests, and be careful, or you'll end up like her."

* * *

><p>Hermione could do nothing but gawk at her raven-haired friend. What he had just said… it couldn't possibly be what she thought it was. Any moment, he would start laughing, telling them that they should see the look on their faces. He couldn't possibly be implying… She'd never read anything like this…<p>

Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he shakily spoke up. "Harry, what do you mean?" though it sounded like he didn't really want to know the answer.

"You remember all the strange things that happened with me last year, right? The glowing, the dreams, all that?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded weakly, thinking back on everything that happened. "That was Justice, a spirit that's… living inside me."

Hermione's mind froze for a long moment, her mouth working soundlessly. This was impossible, it was impossible, it was completely, utterly, _impossible_! Harry must have noticed the looks on Ron and her faces as he continued quickly. "Well, he doesn't live inside me, exactly, he's kind of attached to... what I mean to say is…" Harry trailed off, clearly trying to find some way to explain what was going on.

"Harry…" Hermione said after an awkward minute of silence. "Maybe… you should start at the beginning…" Ron nodded quickly, though his face remained very pale.

Harry took a deep breath before speaking again. "Yes, that's… a good idea." He seemed to spend a moment gathering his thoughts before he continued. "As I guess you've figured out by now, all this started at the World Cup, when we found Anders, Justice's first host." Hermione nodded, she had figured that out ages ago, though she wondered about the name. "Anders… he… he came from a different world, though Justice doesn't completely understand how, since things were so chaotic, what with the wound they had taken."

This gave Hermione pause. On the surface, it sounded completely absurd, but if it were true, it would explain so much; why no one had known what was going on, how this… Justice… was so completely alien. It was impossible, but it made so much sense…

Ron, however, seemed to need further clarification. "A different world? Like Mars, or something?" he asked. Hermione shook her head and was about to explain, but Harry was faster.

"No, not a different planet, further than that. Somehow, Anders and Justice stumbled through some sort of rift between our reality and a different one." Ron blinked several times, and Harry sighed. "I know it must sound crazy, but it's true," Harry said. "Well, when Anders… died… Justice was able to leave his body. But… he realized too late that the Fade here…"

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione asked, her natural tendency to want to know everything overcoming her nerves about the strange situation, at least for a moment.

"The Fade is the realm of dreams and magic," Harry explained, "where spirits come from. Souls go there when we sleep, Muggle and wizard alike. As I said, Justice tried to go back, but he realized too late that, for some reason, the Fade is very weak here, too weak to support him. It would be like… taking away our air. He was dying." A flash of pain crossed Harry's face, though Hermione couldn't help but wonder if it was truly him that felt it. "He needed a host, someone to latch onto. And… I was the closest."

Hermione gasped. She had been beginning to think that Harry had willingly invited the dying creature into his mind out of some need to save lives even at risk to himself. She would have been incredibly annoyed that he had been lying to her for a year, but at least it would have been a choice... Ron was, of course, more vocal with his shock. "So… this _thing _just invades your body, and you're okay with that?" he said in stunned horror.

"Justice wasn't thinking at the time," Harry said, raising his hands in a comforting gesture. "And I wouldn't call it an invasion per say… he was in a coma for most of it, trying to recover from his brush with death." This did little to sooth Hermione's fears. "Besides… he's probably the only reason I'm still alive. He's taught me a lot about magic, and I doubt I would have survived against Voldemort a few weeks ago without his help."

Ron muttered something about trying to forget about that, leaving Hermione to ask the question that… had to be asked, no matter what the answer might be. "So… what does this Justice plan to do?" She was a bit ashamed about how much her voice was shaking as she that.

"He wants to defeat Voldemort, just like I do," Harry said. "Voldemort is everything Justice hates in mages. No matter whom he had found himself in, he would have wanted to stop Voldemort. That it was me… just put Justice in a better position to do something about him. To attack one of us is to attack the other, and Voldemort still has it in for me."

Hermione couldn't help but flinch at Harry's blunt assessment. "I guess that makes sense…" she said. "But… what happened tonight Harry? Was that... Justice?"

"Yes, that was him, speaking through me," Harry said, looking a bit uncomfortable. "That… wasn't something either of us really meant to happen. Justice has never really liked manifesting, it brings back bad..." He stopped suddenly, and Hermione thought she saw a flash of blue in his green eyes, though that might have been just the paranoia talking.

"Does Dumbledore know?" Ron asked suddenly.

"Yeah, he knows, and so does Sirius, and they've both accepted him," This did more to calm Hermione than anything else that had been said, but if this spirit was telling the truth about coming from a different world, then even Professor Dumbledore wouldn't know what to expect. Harry must have noticed the remaining wariness in Ron and her eyes, as his voice took on a note of desperation "I'm still me! Justice hasn't changed me that much!"

Hermione wanted desperately to believe that, but when she tried, all she could remember were the times when Harry had started glowing, hear the worried whispers of other students, see the flashes of anger. All she could understand was the fact that Harry _had_ been changed by this spirit.

Worst of all, she saw Harry collapsing with a cry of pain, remembered having to work together with Ron to drag him to the hospital wing in the hope that something could be done for him.

Suddenly, Harry nodded, despite the fact that neither Ron nor Hermione had spoken. "Look, Justice wants to talk to you," Before either Ron or Hermione could do more than glance at each other, Harry went on. "He's not that bad! Please, just… keep an open mind, okay?" With that, he closed his eyes.

"Greetings," Hermione jerked back as Harry's voice… changed. If she focused, she could still tell it was him, but it was difficult, as there was another voice overlapping it, speaking the same words at the same time, producing a creepy, echoy effect.

"Bloody hell…" Ron muttered as Harry opened his eyes. Once again, his eyes were nothing but a pair of glowing blue balls, though… his demeanor didn't seem to have changed as much this time. On the few occasions Hermione had seen this, Harry shifted his position in some way, almost like he was getting ready to fight. That was probably the spirit's doing… Still, the glowing effect was more than enough to make her wish that Harry hadn't let this… creature… out to talk to them.

"Umm…" she heard herself saying. "Could you… not do that, please?"

"Not do what?" the voice asked, almost sounding confused. A half second later, it continued. "Oh… You mean the glow?" Hermione nodded quickly, vaguely noticing Ron doing the same out of the corner of her eye. "I am afraid that that is beyond my control. That is a manifestation of my presence within Harry's form, and it grows more visible the more I interact with his body."

"Wait, if you're in his body, why don't his eyes glow all the time?" Ron asked.

"I am not… truly in his body most of the time," the spirit said. "It is more accurate to say that I am tethered to his soul, occupying the strengthened portion of the Fade that comes from the nexus of magic that occurs because of his magical abilities. It is… complex." For a moment, Hermione was about to demand an explanation; she had never liked not being told something because it was "too complex." However, she really didn't want to risk annoying this being that was so closely tied to her friend.

Meanwhile, the spirit had continued, "However, at the moment, I am directly connected with the body, and Harry has taken my place in the background." Was it just Hermione, or did it sound… uncomfortable, when it said that, almost like it didn't want to be doing this.

"So, why did you want to talk to us?" Ron asked.

"I had hoped that you only fear me because I am an unknown, and that I could put you at ease. What you saw before… I will admit that was not my finest moment. I was… angry and frustrated at the slights Percy Weasley had thrown at Harry."

"I was too, it wasn't just Justice," Harry said suddenly, the spirit's part of his voice vanishing along with the glow.

' 'Does that mean that Harry can retake control whenever he wants?' Hermione thought. If he could, then it would do a lot to sooth her fears of hostile takeover… but it could be that Justice merely let him do it... She suppressed a hiss of frustration; there were just too many unknowns!

Ron, however, seemed to barely notice as his ears turned red. "I know!" he muttered. "How could Percy do it… I mean, I always knew he was a prat, but how could he say all those things to Dad and Mum?"

"Well said, Ronniekins, well said." Hermione gasped as the door opened and Fred and George walked in, both holding Extendable Ears. "Now, what to do about this mysterious new squatter in Harry's head."

"It's not like that," Harry said. He had just reestablished the glow, but it faded the second the twins entered the room. "And why are you eavesdropping on us?"

"Well, Mum was in a right state after Percy left, and Dad was trying to comfort her. Gin-Gin said that our method of… cheering people up… probably wouldn't be very effective in this situation, so we figured we'd find out what was going on up here." Fred flopped down on Ron's bed, grinning, though it looked forced. "And good thing we did, too. Who knows what sorts of dastardly things this spirit thing could do!"

"I don't know, brother," George said. "This Justice doesn't seem so bad, even though he should be the natural enemy of lawbreakers like us. Certainly has a good grasp of our _dear _elder brother."

Hermione flinched at the ugly tone the normally cheerful boy's tone had taken, though she had to admit that it was a blow, for Percy to have said that he didn't believe in Harry, especially in such a hurtful way. Still, George's anger was a bit disconcerting.

She didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as Fred continued. "But enough about that, we're interested in you, Justice. Come out and talk to us!" Harry blinked several times before his eyes slowly flared blue.

"Yes?" Justice said. Both Fred and George grinned, seemingly unaffected by the shift in Harry's demeanor.

"So… a spirit, huh?" George said.

"From another world, you say?" Fred continued.

Harry/Justice slowly nodded. "That is correct," the spirit said slowly.

"Well, isn't this just fascinating," George said, and Fred nodded. "You know, I'm not certain how comfortable I am with this…"

"Oh, come now, George," Fred said. "I'm sure that there are ways for Harry's friend to… prove his allegiance."

"True, true," George nodded, studying the possessed intently. "Any ideas of… proofs by service?"

"Several, but none that can be carried out here," Fred said. "So, Justice, we'll be sure to call on you to prove yourself later. You don't mind, do you?"

Glowing blue eyes narrowed. "That depends entirely upon what you want," Justice said coolly, a tiny note of menace to his voice. The glow faded, and Harry continued with the same tone. "Justice is not a toy for you to play with."

The twins laughed. "Yeah, they're too easy," George said. "Don't have a deceptive bone in they're body. Besides, Harry'll keep the other one in check." He held out a hand. "This is a bit late, but welcome to the world, hope you enjoy your stay."

"What… just happened?" Ron asked as Harry took the offered hand, looking as confused as the redhead sounded.

"We just pranked Justice!" Fred said, grinning. "He thought we were blackmailing him!"

Hermione shook her head in annoyance. "We have more important things to worry about than your games!" she snapped. "This changes everything!"

Fred and George studied her for a long moment before glancing at each other. When George spoke, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Does it really? Harry's our friend, and friends at least _try_ to like their friend's friends" he said.

"On that note," Fred continued in the same tone. "Harrykins hasn't changed that much in the year that this Justice has been there. Sure, there have been some rough spots, but they seemed to be caused by other things that happened that year. And didn't Harry say that Justice was the reason Harry survived what happened? I think that earns him some points."

"Besides," George carried on, a dark note entering his voice. "We're not like Percy. We're not going to abandon Harry now, not when he needs friends the most. If that means that we need to trust someone that we don't completely understand, then so be it. We've already lost one brother."

Hermione blinked, taking an unconscious step back. She had always seen Fred and George as annoying pranksters, taking entirely too much pleasure in the breaking of rules for its own sake, rather than for any real good. Oh, she found them mildly amusing on occasion, but usually that was blotted out by her wish that they would just quiet down so she could concentrate on whatever book or assignment she was working on. She had never suspected that they would have suspected them of saying something so… profound.

And they were right, weren't they. For everything about Harry that had changed because of Justice, there remained the fact that he was Harry. He was still Hermione's best friend, surely that counted for something.

Ron, it seemed, was thinking along the same lines, if the reddening of his ears meant anything. "Yeah… I guess that's true," he said. "Besides, I don't want to be like Percy."

"That's the spirit, Ronniekins," George said, his voice sliding back to its normal, joking tone. "Who ever wanted to be like that prat, anyways?"

"You do not seem surprised that your brother left," Harry… no wait, that was Justice again, said, looking between the twins.

There was another moment of silence before Fred spoke up. "I guess we aren't, are we? The signs were all there, the long hours, the worship of the boss and Ministry, all of that. Lived for the job, no surprise that he'd take their side."

"It started before that, though," George cut in. "Even at Hogwarts, he was all about rules, authority, kissing up to teachers, all that stuff above and beyond all else. He avoided us all whenever he could. He exists to please authority, he does."

Hermione looked around. No matter how much the twins, or even Ron, tried to hide it, she could tell that Percy's leaving had hit them hard. Hermione had sometimes wondered what it would be like to have siblings, either older or younger. Right now, though, she couldn't help but feel a bit of guilty relief that she would never have to know what it meant to have a brother or sister turn on her, and she was confident enough in her parents' love to know that nothing like this would ever happen there.

After a tense minute, Fred shook his head and smiled. "Let's not talk about him, not when we have someone from a completely different world to pester!" He turned to Harry/Justice, who blinked. "So… what kind of a name is Justice, anyways? Seems more like a title than anything any sane parent would call their kid."

"I… did not come to be in that way," the spirit said slowly. "I simply grew from the Fade, from magic. As for my name… it represents what I am. Some spirits or demons choose to take another name, one that is theirs, but I never saw the need to. I was so confident… so proud…" Again, Hermione couldn't be sure, but Justice sounded sad when he said that. It seemed she was right, as the glow faded from Harry's eyes a moment later, somehow projecting a note of finality.

"Justice?" she asked, taking a step forward.

"He left," Harry said, his voice clear once again. "He… doesn't like talking about some of these things."

"Why not?" Ron asked. "Did something happen…"

"Yes, and no, I don't really know what, he never talks about it in any detail," Harry interrupted, though Hermione couldn't help but feel that Harry wasn't being completely honest. "Spirits don't just remember things, they relive them." Both Fred and George had the decency to look sheepish as Harry said this, but Harry waved his hand as they opened their mouths to apologize (hopefully). "He'll be fine, he just needs some time. Besides, he has a… project that he's working on, that he wants to continue." He glanced at the Weasleys. "To clarify what he meant by not coming to be that way, spirits are magical entities. From what he's told me, when something happens in the mortal world that's so significant that it reaches into the Fade, a spirit… well they're born, and they spend the rest of their life growing from the magic they absorb."

"So, why don't we have anything like that?" Ron mused.

"Likely for the same reason that he couldn't survive here," Hermione said. "If our… Fade, isn't it?" Harry nodded. "Yes, if our Fade is too weak to support the existence of a developed spirit, then it wouldn't be strong enough to generate them."

This just raised more questions for Hermione. What had caused Justice's world to have a stronger magical realm. Was it something inherent and unchanging, or did it grow or shrink over time. Her thoughts raced, and she wished that the spirit was interested in talking so she could start bouncing ideas off of him. There was so much that could be learned!

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside Ron's door, followed by a soft knock. "Is everyone in there?" Ginny asked quietly. "Dad… Dad wants to talk to us all." She glanced at Harry curiously, but refrained from asking about what had happened. Everyone nodded and quickly made their way down the stairs.

Mr. Weasley was standing in front of the fireplace in the Weasley's living room, staring into the flames. As soon as everyone else had arrived, he turned around, and Hermione was saddened, though not surprised, by just how tired he looked. Still, his eyes were strong as they swept the group.

"Molly's gone to bed," he said quietly. "She'll likely be leaving in the morning to find Percy and try to talk to him." He paused for a moment, and when no one said anything he continued. "I believe I know the answer to this question, but I must ask it anyways. If anyone here believes as Percy seems to, please step forward." No one budged an inch, and from the scowl on Ron's face it looked like he was insulted by the implication. "Good." Mr. Weasley glanced at his children. "Now, yesterday I told you that I would have something important to say, once Harry and Hermione had joined us?" All four of them nodded immediately. "We are going to be leaving the Burrow for the rest of the summer. I can't say where at the moment, and you will understand when we get there." Hermione glanced at the others, and wasn't surprised that Harry seemed to know what Mr. Weasley was talking about; he had been in contact with Professor Dumbledore recently after all. "We'll be leaving in the next few days, so please pack those things that you know you'll need." He turned his eyes on Fred and George as he said this, causing the pair to whistle innocently.

"What about me?" Hermione asked. She wanted to stay in contact with the Wizarding World, and she certainly wasn't going to do that with the stupid _Prophet_.

"Dumbledore's work that angle himself, so I'm afraid I don't know how it's going to work," Mr. Weasley said. "Still, it shouldn't be that long before you can join us." He looked around again, "Well, it's getting late, and the next few days are going to be quite hectic, so you might want to get some rest."

As the group turned to head back up the stairs, Hermione noticed Harry hanging back. Ron glanced at her and shrugged, and the pair stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry said quietly. "About earlier…"

Mr. Weasley raised his hand with a tired sigh. "You don't need to justify yourself to me, Harry," he said. "Dumbledore didn't give any details, but he told us that… something special happened to you, something that was your story to tell, and no one else's. Ultimately, though, he trusts you, and so do I." He closed his eyes for a long moment before continuing. "Percy is an adult, and thus entitled to make his own decisions. I… wish he had chosen differently, but I hope that, once he's had time to really think about what was said tonight, he will come to his senses." He reached out and patted Harry on the shoulder. "That being said, if you ever want to talk to Molly or myself about anything, we will be there for you."

"I… thank you, Mr. Weasley," Harry said quietly.

"You're welcome, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "Now, you should probably get some rest too. You'll be heading back to Hogwarts after breakfast."

For a moment, Hermione thought that Harry was going to tell Mr. Weasley all about Justice. He seemed to change his mind, however, and instead quietly bade Mr. Weasley good night and made his way back over to her and Ron. The trio walked in silence until they reached the door to Ginny's room, where Hermione was staying.

"Well, good night," Hermione said before slipping through the door.

As she drifted off to sleep a few minutes later, Hermione's mind drifted back to the stunning things she had learned today. To think that the dangerous curse she had been worrying about was actually some strange magical creature from another world! What secrets it must know. Maybe, someday, she would be able to talk to it, learn more.

Still… it wouldn't hurt to be careful around it, at least for a while. Even Harry seemed to think that Justice was unpredictable. Best to keep an eye on them, make sure nothing bad happened to Harry because of this.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Harry and Justice sat in the dream common room, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. Finally Harry spoke up.<p>

"Well, that went well, didn't it?" he said. "They didn't abandon us."

"That is true," Justice said quietly, though he didn't look up from his hands. Harry sighed, Justice had been distant ever since Ron had inadvertently reminded him of… whatever had happened that made him feel so guilty, and when Justice was upset, the whole Fade reacted to that: the candles around the room were dim, and the dark maelstrom outside the window seemed a bit more violent than normal.

After a moment, Harry spoke up. "You never did get around to telling me about your first time in the mortal world, the one that was a happy time. Want to talk about it now?"

Justice looked up, the glow of his eyes brightening slightly. "Yes, that would be nice," he said quietly. "Thank you, Harry."

Once again, the walls of the common room seemed to fall away as Justice's memories took center stage. Harry and Justice were now standing on a Fade hill, one that overlooked a village. It didn't take a sharp eye to see that this village was a mess; ramshackle huts were scattered randomly alongside dying and dead trees. The only thing in the image that seemed at all well cared for was the imposing stone fortress at the center of the village, though it also had an aura of malevolence around it. There was something clearly wrong here. "At first, it seemed like nothing special," Justice said, watching his memory-self slowly ascend the hill, his heavy armor clanking. "This was not the first shattered memory I had encountered, some demon's pitiful recreation of mortal reality. Still, I knew there was injustice here, something that I needed to… correct."

Harry and present-Justice followed the spirit down into the village, where he was met by a terrified-looking young man.

"You!" the memory of Justice boomed, causing the man to flinch. "You are mortal? What has happened in this place?"

"Who are you?" the man asked weakly. "We have nothing you want, just leave us alone." Harry flinched at just how defeated the man sounded. It seemed the Justice of the time did as well, as he lowered his voice slightly.

"I come not to harm you, mortal. I am Justice, and it is my duty to rid existence of blights such as the one that has taken hold here! Tell me what has happened? What must I do to shatter this nightmare?"

"There is no nightmare," the man whispered. "This is not something we can simply wake up from. We are hers… now and forever. Not even death can free us, not from her."

"Who is she?" Justice pressed on, reaching out and grabbing the man's shoulders and shaking him slightly. "What demon holds your soul?"

The man cringed, but before he could answer, another voice drifted on the wind. "Who is it?" A woman walked slowly around the corner of the nearest ruined house, only to stop short at the sight of Justice. "What…"

"Lady, please answer my question!" Justice said, stepping around the man and approaching her. "What demonic sorcery has bound you to this place? Tell me so that I might free you."

"No offence, Justice, but I think you were scaring them," Harry said to the present spirit, who nodded.

"Yes, I was. I was so determined to sniff out the evil and destroy it, I forgot that most mortals were not as resilient as spirits in the Fade."

Meanwhile, the woman was backing away from the Justice she could see. "You… spirit, you must leave this place, before she notices you!" she whispered, looking around. "If you're seen, she'll think we're conspiring against her… and then…" The woman shuddered at the thought.

Justice, however, would not be deterred. "You need not fear the demon any longer, good people!" he said. "Tell me of it, so that I may learn its weaknesses and destroy it!"

"What is this?" a silky voice asked, and a trio of men wearing armor and carrying swords stepped around the corner, their eyes shining maliciously. The leader continued, "You, outsider, speak of slaying the Baroness? Don't you know it's treason to try to assassinate nobility? Looks like we're going to have to put you in your place."

"Show your true form, demon!" Justice roared, drawing his mace and shield. "No matter what cloak you and your dark master might wear, you cannot hide from my eye! I am Justice, the scourge of darkness and defender of the innocent! I will end this travesty!"

The three soldiers stepped forward, only to be smashed back by a wave of energy from Justice. As they struggled to recover, Justice was already upon them, bringing his mace down upon one's helm, killing him instantly and causing his body to disintegrate, though the armor and weapons stayed behind. The remaining two charged forward with bloodcurdling cries, but Justice remained firm, blocking one sword with his shield and the other with his mace. After a brief moment of pushing from both sides, Justice used his shield to shove one enemy away before bringing it around to the side of the other's head, opening him for a killing blow from his mace.

"You are stronger than the others…" the final soldier said, pushing himself to his feet. "But you are not strong enough! The Baroness will destroy you!"

"If she sends minions as weak as you to try and stop me, then I have nothing to fear," Justice said as he stepped forward, contemptuously swatting aside the demon's last attack before smashing his head as well. With that, Justice turned back to the cowering mortals. "Now, will you tell me of your troubles?"

"You… you killed them?" the woman whispered, her eyes wide. "No one has ever been able to touch them before…" She turned to her companion. "I think he can do it, Marcus! I think he can save us!"

"But… the Baroness is so much stronger…" the man whimpered. "She slew the dragon… Can anyone really beat her?"

"We can't live like this anymore!" the woman said. "We have to do something!" With that, she turned to Justice. "I am Molly, sir Justice. I will tell you everything. The Baroness those soldiers spoke of, she is the Orlesian lady that was sent to govern us, her at Blackmarsh. At first, she earned our love when she destroyed the terrible dragon that was terrorizing us." The woman lowered her head. "There were those that warned us of what she must have been to be able to destroy the dragon… but we did not listen. It was not until the girls started disappearing that we started to wonder if something was wrong…" Molly shook her head. "Finally, finally we'd had enough, and we torched her mansion, with her inside. We thought we would finally be free of her… But then, she cast some evil spell, trapping us all in this place. We tried to repeat our rebellion, but she stopped us with a wave of her hand." Molly shuddered. "We have been here ever since… whenever one dies, they are reborn to be her slave again."

"And I thought Voldemort was bad…" Harry muttered. "At least he lets people die…"

"Make no mistake, he is evil," Justice said quietly. "There are many evil beings in this world and Thedas, and it is up to people like us to stop them." Harry glanced at the spirit, smiling slightly.

In the memory, meanwhile, Justice was speaking again. "Then the way to end the nightmare is to slay the witch!" he said. "Come, let us reclaim the rest of the village, so that we may prepare."

Meanwhile, the man had finally risen to his feet. "We are not warriors, spirit," he said. "We are simple folk… we have not your strength."

"You do," Justice said, reaching down and grabbing one of the fallen swords. "You had the strength to destroy the witch once, does that mean nothing? This weapon is the expression of strength, take it and stand with me."

For a long moment, the man simply stared at Justice, before a smile slowly spread across his face. "You are right, spirit," he said, grabbing the sword. "And so are you, Molly. Enough is enough. Let's rekindle the flames of rebellion in Blackmarsh!"

Molly let out a bark of laughter, having already put on the armor and taken up the sword of another fallen guard, "There are more guards in the village. Killing them will send a message to the Baroness that we are not her slaves any longer!"

"Come! Let us go!" Justice said, raising his mace and leading the way into the rest of the village. Harry and present-Justice followed at a jog.

Not far from where they had started was a square, right before the gates to the mansion. There were signs that there had been something of a market set up, though Harry couldn't think what was being sold in the Fade. All this had been forgotten, however, as the people scattered while demon soldiers, both in human form and the strange shapes that Harry had seen in some of Justice's other memories, converged. At the center of the square stood Justice and his two allies, their weapons drawn.

Harry couldn't describe what happened next, it was all so fast. Justice seemed to be everywhere at once, his mace smashing skulls, breaking shields, and banishing demons. Whenever one or the other of the humans with him was threatened, he would be there to defend them. As the fight went on, Justice was shouting. "People, hear me! Too long has this witch held you here! Come now, rise up! Watch as her minions fall, and know that there is no evil that cannot be overcome so long as the just stand together against them. Rise and fight, people! RISE AND FIGHT!"

At first, nothing happened. Finally, however, a young boy grabbed a stone from the street and threw it into the small army of soldiers. "Down with the Baroness!" he shouted as he reached for another missile. His cry was soon taken up by the others in the crowd, and more and more stones flew. Caught between the furious crowd at their back and Justice's unstoppable assault in front, the demons were quickly being wiped out.

"Retreat! Fall back!" one of the soldiers wailed, sprinting over to the gate. "My lady, let us in! Please, hurry!"

"Your master will not save you, demon!" Justice called, smashing another pair of enemies aside with his shield before throwing his mace to smash the fleeing demon's head against the gate and killing him. The weapon flew back to Justice's hand of its own volition as he spun to destroy a flaming demon with it.

"I don't know about that. Good help is so hard to come by these days."

The rebelling crowd shrank back as the gates swung slowly open, revealing a lone woman. The remains of her army quickly moved to screen her, but she pushed her way through them.

"You're new around her, spirit," she said mildly, as if Justice had just dropped in for tea rather than to lead a rebellion against her.

"Your reign ends here, witch!" the spirit roared, taking a step forward and raising his shield. "Surrender, so that justice may be brought to this place!"

The Baroness sighed, studying her nails delicately. "Really, you are such a bore," she said. "These people were placed under my governance, and I saved them from the terrible dragon that threatened them. Does this not mean that they are mine to do with what I wish? Is that not my right?"

"Never!" Justice said. "If you were their leader, then you would protect them because it was your duty, not because of what you could steal from them, but because it was just. But you… you lost that honor, and became the monster I see before me! If you do not surrender, then I will destroy you!"

Cold, evil eyes narrowed. "You think that just because you've given my soldiers some trouble means you are ready to face me?" she spat before looking around at the crowd. "And you peasants, did you not learn the price of defying your Maker-given mistress already. I shall begin my purge with this upstart spirit." With that, the Baroness raised her hands and shot a wave of green flames at Justice, who was engulfed.

"No!" Harry shouted, forgetting that this was just a memory, that Justice must have somehow survived the attack. His cry was echoed by several members of the crowd, causing the Baroness to laugh.

"Yes, peasants, watch your champion burn!" she called. "And know, that…"

What the peasants should know was never answered, as Justice's mace flew from the fire and smashed into the witch's face, causing her to reel with a sharp cry. As the flames cleared, Justice caught his mace as he lowered the shield he had used to protect himself.

"Is that all the power you possess?" he asked, taking another step forward. "I will not fall so easily!"

The Baroness lowered her hand from her face, her eyes flaring green as she glared hatefully at the armored spirit. "Fine!" she snapped. "You can play your games in the village, spirit. But know this; my manor is the heart of my power. Approach it only if you wish your existence to come to a sudden, violent end." With that, she turned and stormed back through the gates, followed by the remnants of her army.

For a long moment, the crowd seemed unable to believe what had just happened. Finally, however, they started cheering wildly, surging forward to surround Justice.

The spirit, however, raised his voice. "Good people, the battle is not over!" he shouted. "Yes, we have driven the witch back into her fortress, but until she and the demons that serve her have been destroyed, you will not be safe."

"Then let's burn her mansion again!" a voice roared from the crowd. "She's already drawn us into the Fade, she has nowhere else to run!"

Justice shook his head. "It is not so easy, I am afraid. The closer she is to the heart of her power, the stronger she is. If we were to simply rush in, we would be destroyed. No, we must prepare first. Only then can we tear this horror from her lair to face justice! Come, let us make ready!" A great cheer rose from the crowd as they started rushing around, gathering what fallen weapons they could and clustering together into excited groups.

"Some time passed," Harry jumped as the quiet voice of his Justice spoke from beside him, he'd been quite engrossed in the memory. "I showed the people of the village how to fight, we strengthened weapons, and carried out the dozen other tasks of preparing to storm the lair of the evil." His eyes shone behind his helm. "I do not know if the people would have been strong enough to defeat her, especially knowing what I do now. Fortunately, however, we had help."

As Justice said this, the scene before Harry had moved rapidly forward until it showed the crowd, along with Justice, gathered in front of the gate. Where as before the people trapped in the Fade had been a battered and beaten lot, they now wore armor, both light and heavy, and carried weapons ranging from massive hammers to wicked-looking spears and even some bows.

"This is your final chance, witch!" the Justice of the past was roaring as he pounded on the gate. "Come out and face the consequences for your crimes!"

"We aren't afraid of you any longer!" Molly yelled, waving her heavy two-handed sword around. There was no response from the manor, though Harry thought he could pick out several demons watching the crowd carefully from upper windows.

Justice nudged Harry and pointed back towards the entrance of the village. Standing there, seemingly unnoticed by anyone else in the memory, was a group of four people. Harry recognized one of them immediately: it was Anders, though he looked much younger than the dying man that Harry had found in the center of a forest clearing. Standing next to him, whispering in his ear, was a good-looking young man with dark hair and a goatee. This man wore dark armor that looked like some sort of leather, strengthened by heavy metal studs, and carried a longbow over his shoulder. The pair glanced down as a short figure wearing enough armor to weigh down a horse said something, his hand resting on the haft of the battle ax he carried.

Leading this group of warriors was another armored figure, though his armor didn't seem to have been forged so much as… grown, judging by the strange swirls and marks decorating its green surface. The face of the helmet was open, revealing a pair of clear blue eyes that swept the gathered crowd of rebels, seemingly ignoring the minor argument going on behind him. Finally, he raised a hand, silencing the other three before walking forward.

"Is this a private riot or can anyone join?" he asked as he arrived, a small smile tugging the edges of his lip. The crowd jumped slightly, obviously having been too focused on the mansion to notice his approach. Justice turned and quickly made his way over, studying the newcomer in silence.

"You are no demon," he said finally. "Who are you, and why have you come to this place?"

The knight in green bowed slightly, crossing his wrists over his chest as he did so. "My name is William Surana, and I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. As for why I'm here, well it involves sleep spells, shields, and the Fade we're all trapped in."

"I see," Justice said. "If you too are trapped in the Fade, then we share a common enemy." He gestured to the mansion behind him. "The witch that lives here has made a prison of the Fade, holding all that enter in perpetual slavery. I am Justice, and I have dedicated myself to ending her reign." He glanced at William's men, who were still hanging back. "I know not what a Grey Warden is, but you seem to be warriors and mages of some strength. Come, aid us, and you will likely be able to leave the Fade upon the witch's death."

William considered for a moment before waving his hand, beckoning the other three forward. "Sounds like a good plan to me," he said. "You're no demon either, I can tell that much."

Justice nodded sharply. "Then let us go! Come, warriors, we shall put an end to this evil, once and for all." The crowd let loose a savage cheer, forming a corridor for Justice to charge through, allowing him to kick the door open with an almighty _bang_ and storm in.

"You certainly had a flair for dramatics, didn't you?" Harry said as the villagers surged in after their hero, followed by the more measured pace of the Wardens.

"I did, didn't I?" Justice said, leading Harry into the courtyard of the manor. The remnants of the Baroness' army were arrayed along the sides, clearly preparing to charge at their mistresses' orders. The woman herself was standing at the top of the stairs, her hands clasped gently.

"I was wondering when you would finish shouting and carrying on like the savages you are," she said calmly as Justice came to a halt in the center of the courtyard, his mace and shield drawn.

Justice growled. "Your words will not save you now! Your army is broken, these people are strong, and warriors from outside the Fade have come to aid the cause of justice! It is _over_!"

"You think so, do you?" the Baroness said, a cruel smirk playing across her face. She then turned to look at William, who had stepped up to stand beside Justice. "You, you are a Grey Warden, correct? I have a proposition for you. You seek to leave the Fade, don't you? If you help me defeat this upstart spirit and regain control of my people, then I will help you leave."

Harry glanced worriedly at the armored man, but was relieved to see him rolling his eyes. "I don't deal with demons, be they born of flesh or magic," he said coldly, drawing the sword he carried over his shoulder. "Besides, the only way you could know I was a Warden was if you had already talked to the First, and I will never aid one who treats with those monsters."

The Baroness laughed quietly. "You are too smart for your own good, you idealistic little elf," she said. "Yes, I have spoken with that brutish Darkspawn, and I offered him the same deal." As she said this, an unspeakably hideous creature walked out of the mansion door behind her, causing Harry to take an involuntary step back. "Had you aided me, I would have sent you both back, for I have no interest in your petty squabbles. Alas, you have chosen to join my enemies, and thus, I must kill you now. Attack!"

The two wings of the Baroness' army lunged forward, only to be blasted back as massive fireballs exploded in their ranks, one from Anders and the other from William. As they reeled, the villagers fell upon them, wielding their new weapons with deadly strength as three of the Wardens supported them. Meanwhile, the… thing… known as a Darkspawn leapt from the stairs, followed by the group of demons that had flanked the Baroness. They were immediately met by Justice and William, both of whom were clearly superior fighters, though they had different styles. Whereas Justice simply powered through anything that got in his way, the Warden flowed like a river, moving almost too fast for Harry's eye to track as he carved a swath through the demons with his sword and magic.

"Are all mages from Thedas this strong?" Harry breathed. Never before had he seen magic like this, clearly born for and of war.

"No… Commander Surana was one of a kind," Justice said, watching as the green-armored man raised his sword, forming a dragon of pure fire to incinerated several demons that got too close. "He was called the Dragon Mage, since not only had he slain the creatures, he could command fire in ways that others could only dream of. I do not believe there is a single person in either of our worlds, perhaps not in any world, who would be able to stop him."

William had reached the First, who was reeling under the relentless assault. Their blades clashed time and again, but even Harry, who had only held a sword once before, could see that the elf was not only much faster, but also more talented. Finally, he shoved the monster back before unleashing a wave of fire from both hands, smashing the First back into the stairs.

"Don't you know to never send darkspawn against a Warden," William said, reaching out with his hand to telekinetically crush the last of Justice's opponents. Meanwhile, the rest of the Baroness' army had been destroyed by the crowd, which was forming up behind the victorious pair. For the first time, the Baroness actually looked worried.

"You… must send me back…" the First said, pushing himself to his feet even as the molten remains of his armor dripped off his body. "I can… slay his body…"

"You don't have the time or the energy," William said calmly. "If you try that, we'd kill you before you got halfway through the spell."

"Perhaps," the Baroness said, her hands lighting up with green flame. "But I have a better idea."

The First suddenly screamed as black blood started flowing from him to gather in front of the Baroness, shifting to the same sickly green color of her eyes. Both Justice and William launched an attack, but part of the green ball formed into a shield, and even as it cracked under the pressure the Baroness laughed.

"You want to leave the Fade so much! Then _so be it_!"

A massive flash obscured the area, only for it to be replaced by the common room.

"So that's it?" Harry asked, looking at Justice.

"Yes, that is how I left the Fade," Justice said. "I ended up in the body of a Grey Warden named Kristoff, who had already been slain. Commander Surana offered me a place in the Wardens, and I served with him to end the Darkspawn threat." He sighed. "It was also with the Wardens that I got to know Anders… and learned of what mages faced in Thedas."

"Do you regret it?" Harry asked after a moment of silence.

Justice blinked before answering. "I… do not know. I did terrible things in the mortal realm… but there were good times as well. Fighting alongside Commander Surana against the Darkspawn was certainly enlightening."

"Yeah," Harry said. "And you probably never would have made it here, either, and Voldemort would have killed me."

"There is that, too," Justice said. The pair sat in silence for a while longer before Justice glanced at the door leading deeper. "I should go and set up defenses around the darkness that has taken residence here," he said, "so I will not be able to speak more for a time. By your leave?" Harry nodded, and the spirit slipped out of the room, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

The image of the green warrior wizard remained in his mind for a long time. Harry even went over to his Pensive-memories to watch the fight several more times, He couldn't help but wish he was as strong and swift as this William Surana was; he'd be able to stop Voldemort in a heartbeat.

Years later, Harry would recognize this as the moment he wished to become more than a wizard, but a warrior. He wanted to be one who could use magic, and perhaps even blade, to defend the people he cared about.

AN: I am sorry that this has taken so long to update, my brother was very sick and I just couldn't get the will to write much. He's doing much better now, so updates should be coming a bit more regularly. Thanks for your patience if you've stuck to the story.

A lot of people have wanted more of Dragon Age, but I couldn't think of a way to believably drag much more of Thedas into Harry Potter's world. And then I realized that I already had more, I just needed to use it! There's absolutely no way this can go wrong for them, right? Yes, William Surana is my Warden from Flames of the Dragon Mage, so spoilers, he survives.

PS: Sorry this took so long to post, things just happen sometimes, you know.

Review Responses:

Danget the critic: I'm glad you like my explanation of the differences; I spend a fair bit of time on it.

Andrew MacKenzie: Thanks for the like. As for Floo… (shrug)

Rizaidym: Well, did they react how you expected?

Jelly340: Again, sorry this took so long to upload. Sometimes, life happens, you know.

xFactor101: I have to admit I read not only Rowling's description of the scene, but also another story called Hermione, Queen of Witches (go check it out, it's not on Fanfiction, but it's amazing, even though it has sadly been abandoned.) From that, I got the idea that Percy could be shown as _wrong_ while still being _sympathetic_. He did care about his family in a way, he just had trouble showing it.

Mazzax: He and Dumbledore never offered the memories because they knew Fudge would just say they were tampered with, so there was really no point.

tpx1: Glad you like

bogus1: You are entitled to your opinions of course, as are we all, but I must point out that there are 200-300 people who disagree with you. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it.

sayain673: Don't worry; this story's not dead. Even if it takes me years, I will finish it or die trying.

kewllewk: You're probably right. It's depressing, but likely true. Being part Veele probably didn't help her either.

shi-morino: Glad you like.

narutofan020: "Good is all"… is that meant in a good way or a bad way?'

Selias: The second I put the pairing to a vote I was pretty confident that Luna would be chosen.

Laali Ariketh: Thank you for your support.

pucflek: It's not that good… but thanks for the suport

.ny: Thanks for the support. My plan all along was for the changes to ramp up slowly rather than simply say "Alright, there's one new character, so suddenly _everyone_ acts totally differently!"

maleficus-lupus: I'm glad you stuck with it, thanks for the review.

unit2337: Thanks

Malkavian-Rocker: Thank you for your support. I'm glad you like the idea of a slow buildup in power, I admit I am annoyed when Harry suddenly becomes godlike. Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for power. As for the tranquility… maybe ;p

Lumina Solaris: Wow, someone's excited :) Sorry this chapter took so long, I hit a bit of a mental block. Hope you're still reading after I made you wait so long.

devo342: Yeah, her skirt caught fire, but Cedric got his face melted and Krum eggs all got squished.

Gladivier: No, the story hasn't been abandoned, I _will_ finish the story even if it kills me, it'll just take some time. Justice has picked up bits of Anders' personality, but he's scared of his dark half, so he tries to lock it away and gets some other stuff too. As for the Fade, it's just too weak for Justice to reach out too much, but I have some plans for him to pull some crazy stunts.


	16. House of Hate

Chapter 14: House of Hate

Harry had been sent back to Hogwarts early in the morning after a quick breakfast at the Burrow with only a brief reassurance that he would be seeing everyone again just as soon as preparations were complete. After that, he once again found himself in the empty halls of Hogwarts. Dumbledore was away, Professor McGonagall was away, and thankfully Snape was away too.

That did not mean, however, that Harry had nothing to do. Instead, he rushed to the Room of Requirement as fast as he could, barely pausing even for Justice's questions until he reached his destination.

"I must admit," Justice said as Harry stood in the center of the room ten minutes after they had returned to the castle. "This is not what I expected."

"Come on, Justice," Harry said as he waved around the sword he'd had the room make. "I'm going to have to fight Voldemort again at some point; I need to learn something that'll give me an edge, something that he won't expect."

"And you wish to be like Commander Surana, don't you?" Justice asked, causing Harry to flush slightly. "There is no shame in that; there are far worse people to wish to model oneself after." The spirit was silent for a time before he gave the mental equivalent of a sigh. "My concern, however, is with practicality. I do not know how much I can help you. My skill with weapons came from instinct, and most of the mortal, physical abilities I was present for the learning of were based on a staff rather than a sword."

"You've helped me learn magic before, even when you were in that coma," Harry insisted. "Surely your instincts can help at least a bit."

Justice was silent for a time. "Perhaps," he said after a long moment. "And you are correct that, if you were to learn these skills, you may be able to catch Voldemort by surprise." Harry was about to speak, but Justice silenced him with a thought. "However, there are still several matters of practicality that I would like to discuss. First, do not expect to be able to cast spells with an ordinary sword. The blade you saw Commander Surana wielding was a special one: forged centuries before and woven with lyrium. He did know enough about it to make one of his own some time after I met him, but I was not made privy to that knowledge. Any blade you wield would be nothing more than a blade."

Harry sighed as he looked down at the sword in his hand. From what he knew of wizarding duels, range was an important part: it gave the duelists time to dodge and plan that they just didn't have in close range. True, his reflexes were better than the average wizard due to his Quidditch training, but were they good enough to get into close quarters without magic? He knew he was right-handed, not ambidextrous, so he wouldn't be able to use a sword and wand at the same time with any level of skill. After a moment, though, he brightened. "I wonder if there's anything like that here?" he said, looking to one side just in time to see a table appear with several books and scrolls on it. "Looks like it," he said as he made his way over and grabbed the nearest book, almost not noticing the very human sensation of amused exasperation from Justice.

As it turned out, there did exist something that fit the basic idea Harry had in mind. They had been very popular during the early Middle Ages, but began to fall out of favor after the Status of Secrecy came into effect due to their difficult-to-hide nature. They were also much more difficult to control than the average wand, certainly not something a fourteen-going-on-fifteen year old would be able to easily handle. Still, with Justice there…

"Possibly," Justice cut in. "However, I would still recommend a different path. There is far more to swordsmanship than being able to carry and control a sword, and many of those things would be difficult for me to pass onto you with any degree of success. Magic is a part of my nature, and thus it is easy for me to give guidance." Harry slumped slightly, but the spirit wasn't finished yet. "It is also true that you will need a new magical tool before too long. Your wand is a product of the magical system of this world: designed for precision and control rather than the channeling of raw power. As we further combine and your magical aptitude grows, there may come a time that your wand will be insufficient for your strength. If I were to make a recommendation, a staff would be better for you than a sword; especially since I have some knowledge of how to create and maintain one."

"Really?" Harry asked, glancing back at the book. Staves had been mentioned several times, and carried many of the same issues as swords. However, there were still several magical cultures that used them extensively.

"Indeed," Justice said. "However, our bond is currently too weak to fully control a staff, even one from this world."

"Then I guess we should go back to training," Harry said, closing the books and standing up. "The sooner we can control a secret weapon, the better."

"Yes," Justice said, and Harry was pleased to note that there was only a faint trace of guilt and worry in the spirit's voice: it seemed revealing himself to Ron and Hermione and not being rejected had done some good for his psyche. Still, as they sat down on the cushions that now lined the floor, Harry knew that there was still quite a ways to go. A moment later, their minds merged, and pain once more filled their united thoughts.

As usual, the merge only lasted for a few agonizing seconds before the pain drove them apart, but Harry was satisfied that they had lasted longer than they had last time, and they weren't even knocked unconscious by the breaking of the bond; though they were still left gasping for breath afterwards. All in all, a major improvement.

"I think we're getting close," he said as he got up, thanking the Room for the fact that it could turn the floor into mats when he and Justice were working. "Maybe we'll even be able to manage it before school starts."

"I would not go quite that far," Justice cautioned. "There is still time; no need to rush."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said before glancing up at the clock that the room had made. "We should check in with Flitwick, McGonagall probably told him to make sure that we're not on our own for too long." Justice agreed, and Harry stepped out of the Room of Requirement, pulling the Marauder's Map that he carried with him along with his Invisibility Cloak on Dumbledore's instructions.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he muttered, tapping the worn parchment with his wand as he turned towards the Charm's classroom, just in case Flitwick had decided to go for a walk.

What he saw, however, caused him to come to a screeching halt. "What's she doing here?" he asked, staring at the labeled dot that was making its way up the front path to the castle: _Dolores Umbridge_.

"We best be cautions," Justice said, his voice dangerously cold. "I don't like this."

"Yeah, me neither," Harry muttered, pulling the Invisibility Cloak out and wrapping it around himself as he hurried back down the castle towards where Umbridge was. What could she possible want? Dumbledore would have told him if the Ministry was planning an inspection… unless they weren't, and this was some sort of trick, but then how had she gotten into the castle? Whatever was going on, Harry wanted to know about it. Slowing to a careful walk as he checked his map again, he noted that Umbridge was only a few corridors from him and heading his way. Pressing himself back against the wall, Harry waited for the Ministry woman to pass by, noting the clipboard she carried with her as well as the cold smirk on her face, before falling into step a ways behind her.

'She's heading towards Dumbledore's office,' Harry thought after a minute of walking. He quickly checked the map. 'Looks like he got back at some point.'

'Then it is likely that this meeting has something to do with us,' Justice thought back, his voice still all but coated with ice. 'How curious.'

Harry blinked; Justice had mentioned that he'd been able to finish forming a rough defense against the corruption at the base of Harry's soul, though he would continue to modify it until he was satisfied. However, the tone of his voice… 'Justice… are you alright?' he asked warily, falling a few paces further back from Umbridge as he did; she mustn't know he was there.

'I am,' Justice said. 'I am simply… ill at ease, around Dolores Umbridge. Seeing her reminds me of… others, especially the claiming of children... that should not be permitted. Too many have abused it in the past.'

Harry nodded just as Umbridge reached the gargoyle protecting Dumbledore's office and gave the password in that high, singsong voice of hers. Harry carefully slipped in just before the stone guardian was able to come back into place before following her up the moving staircase.

"Hem hem," she said as she knocked.

"Ah, come in, Madam Umbridge," Dumbledore responded, his voice maintaining its normal calm, friendly demeanor despite who he was addressing. The witch did so, thankfully not closing the door before Harry could slip in himself. As he did, there was a faint brush against his mind that Justice intercepted, and Dumbledore's eyes flicked briefly to him as he moved to stand in a corner out of the way. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Umbridge smiled tightly as she made her way to stand in front of Dumbledore's desk, ignoring the chair that was already pulled out and waiting. "Several things, Dumbledore," she said, her voice even more sickly-sweet than usual. "I do hope I'm not… interrupting anything?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "Lemon drop?"

"I'll pass," Umbridge said. "Now, I know this is a bit early, but I was talking with the Minister yesterday, about Hogwarts… _difficulties_, with finding and keeping qualified Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. There have been a few decent ones, but the most recent batch have been… substandard. A werewolf, Dumbledore, really?"

"From the student comments I've heard, Remus was actually considered one of the most successful professors in recent years," Dumbledore said, the slight dulling of his eyes' twinkle the only sign of whatever he was feeling about that comment. "However, I will admit that the school has had a great deal of ill luck in regard to that position. Did Cornelius or yourself have any ideas as to preventing further misfortunes?"

Umbridge's smile turned even more brittle. "The _Minister,_" she said sweetly, "believes that your more recent choices have been much too adventurous. A return to the basics will be for the best, and after further discussion I volunteered to take on the position myself." Pulling a thick parchment letter off her clipboard, she placed it on the desk in front of Dumbledore. "I'm sure you will find my credentials acceptable, especially in comparison to… others." Harry clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain silent despite the boiling anger beginning to fill him.

Dumbledore didn't immediately take the letter, instead keeping his eyes on Umbridge. "I must admit, this is the first I've heard about you being interested in teaching. I had thought you enjoyed your position as Senior Undersecretary, and I wouldn't wish to deny Cornelius such an effective advisor."

"Your concern is most touching, Dumbledore, but I have absolute faith that there are enough _loyal_ people in the Minister's office to make up for my absence, and the education and upbringing of proper Wizarding children is of utmost importance to the Ministry. I believe, and the Minister agrees, that a personal touch is what is required to bring this school back to acceptable standards."

'Claim dominion over it, you mean?' Justice snarled. 'I know her ilk.' Harry agreed, but didn't put his thoughts to words even in his mind for fear of creating a feedback loop and potentially giving rise to the darkness within. The last thing he needed was a blowup now.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, kept his face calm. "Very well, I shall take your offer into consideration," he said.

The witch's smile widened. "I do not believe you will have much of a choice in the matter, Dumbledore," she said. "The Ministry is very interested in making sure that there are no more of your experiments teaching this year. I doubt you will have any other candidates."

"We will see," Dumbledore said. "But you mentioned that you had several things to discuss with me this morning?"

"Of course," Umbridge said. "As I'm sure you've already guessed, the other matter is Harry Potter. The Ministry received your paperwork declaring yourself his guardian, and after some debate it was decided that there should be an inspection, just to be sure."

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, once more glancing at Harry as he rose to his feet. "I'm sure he's in the library, working on his summer assignments. If you wish to speak to him, I can take you there immediately."

"That would be wonderful," Umbridge said. "I'm sure, if we hurry, we can get this all sorted out without further interference."

Dumbledore simply kept smiling as he opened the door for Umbridge. "After you," he said, allowing the toad-like woman to leave the office before stepping out himself, leaving the office door open just long enough for Harry to join them on the moving staircase. As soon as the trio arrived at the bottom, Dumbledore led Umbridge down the corridor that Harry knew led to the longer way of getting to the Hogwarts library.

Smiling grimly, Harry turned and headed in the proper direction. 'I wonder what she's up to?' he thought to Justice. 'The Ministry can't seriously expect to find any reason to take us away from Hogwarts, can they?'

'I doubt it loses them much to try,' Justice said. 'And they likely wish to intimidate us.' Harry snorted; it would take more than some Ministry witch causing trouble to frighten him.

Although, now that he thought about the consequences of Umbridge actually becoming the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. While she probably wouldn't have Lockhart's raw incompetence, having a Ministry spy dedicated to hurting Dumbledore's reputation when Voldemort was on the prowl would be disastrous, especially in as vital a position as Defense Against the Dark Arts. 'I wonder if anyone will complain about it?' he thought. 'Or will they all buy into Fudge's story?'

'Not all of them will,' Justice said. 'There are always some who oppose tyranny.' What went unsaid, of course, was the possibility that there might not be enough.

Harry shook his head as he slipped his Invisibility Cloak off before entering the library. Madam Pince glanced at him as he did, but chose not to comment as she grabbed a duster so as to have an excuse to follow him. Harry, however, only went to one of the general reference shelves near the front and grabbed a few standard fifth-year books.

He had just finished arranging himself as if he had been studying for a while at a nearby table when Dumbledore and Umbridge entered the library. "Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he led the way over.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said, keeping his face carefully blank as he looked at Umbridge, suppressing the urge to glare at her as she smirked slightly.

"It is so good to see you again, Mr. Potter," she said. "I am just here on behalf of the Minister to make sure that there are no… issues, that need to be rectified." The way she said that sent a chill down Harry's spine and caused Justice to snarl in the back of their shared mind, but he was still able to keep his face impassive. When he didn't immediately speak, Umbridge continued. "Hem hem. Now, there are just a few questions that I wish you to answer completely truthfully, can you do that for me?"

"Of course," Harry lied easily.

Umbridge's smile widened, making her look more like a toad than ever. "Very good, Mr. Potter, very good," she breathed. "Now, I suppose we should start off with something simple, have there been any issues here at Hogwarts that you wish to discuss?"

Harry blinked; he hadn't expected that, she must have known he wouldn't be stupid enough to say anything that might jeopardize his stay at Hogwarts. Maybe she was just saying that because she had to make this appear like a legitimate visit. "No," he said. "Nothing comes to mind."

The quill Umbridge was holding scratched briefly on the parchment. "Are you certain, Mr. Potter," she said. "Anything at all?"

"Nothing."

"Hmmm… I see. Now, onto something else. Since the hearing, have you spent all your time here?"

'Now _that_ was more what I was thinking,' Harry thought grimly. Unless Percy had somehow failed to mention Harry's presence at the Burrow last night, Umbridge already knew the answer to that question. Deciding it couldn't hurt to confirm that, he spoke. "I visited my friends once."

From the glint in Umbridge's eyes, it was clear she had in fact known about that visit, and that she believed his acknowlegemnt had put him into some trap of hers. "And might I ask what you were doing there?" she asked sweetly.

"Last I checked, it wasn't illegal to visit friends," Harry said, unable to completely keep the edge out of his voice. Umbridge's smirk simply widened as she made another note.

"And did anything happen while you were there?" she asked.

"I fail to see how this relates to your business here," Harry shot back. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in warning but didn't comment further.

"You'll find, Mr. Potter, that a great many things relate my business here," Umbridge said silkily. "But enough about that, you have not yet answered the question."

Harry could tell that she already knew exactly what she wanted him to say: that Justice had flared up. However, he simply stared her in the eye and kept his mouth shut, he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.

"Mr. Potter, answer the question," Umbridge said, her voice going up a pitch as she stared back at him.

The tension that filled the air was shaken as Dumbledore gave a light cough. "Madam Umbridge, I will say that Harry has a point, though he could stand to put it more tactfully," he said. "The purpose of your visit is to ensure that Harry Potter's wellbeing is being respected here at Hogwarts. What happens at the home of a friend is not included in that purpose."

Umbridge slowly turned to face Dumbledore, her smile shrinking away into an ugly scowl as her voice chilled. "Very well, I shall speak candidly," she said quietly, all traces of sweetness gone. "The Ministry knows for a fact that Harry Potter's abnormality continues to cause chaos and put everyone around him at risk. Despite the Wizengamot's decision, one that I believe to have been ill advised and made in haste, it is clear that Harry Potter cannot be trusted in any significant matters until a thorough examination has been made. The Ministry deserves to know what lurks within this boy, and why you're so concerned with hiding it from us."

'You deserve nothing but scorn, tyrant,' Justice hissed, his anger flaring once more. Harry gritted his teeth to keep from speaking those words himself, making sure to not repeat what had happened when Percy betrayed his family. Dumbledore's eyes had also lost their normal shine and were now flat and hard, though not yet blazing with true power.

"As I told Cornelius," he said, his voice still completely calm. "Harry Potter is as sane as you and I. He is unique, certainly, but then we all are in our own way. He is no threat to the Ministry or anyone else around him. His true enemy is and has always been Lord Voldemort and those that serve him, as is mine. Should the Ministry choose to acknowledge this threat, we shall all once again be on the same side."

Umbridge's quill was moving again even as she stared at Dumbledore. "Still spouting misinformation, I see," she whispered. "The Ministry does not take kindly to those who try to spread panic and discord in the Wizarding World."

"Nor do I, Dolores," Dumbledore said. "I seek to prevent the panic that will come when Voldemort returns to the open. He will not remain hidden forever: he is simply building his strength." The headmaster's voice took on a different note, one that Harry could almost categorize as hopeful. "It is not too late, though. If the Ministry…"

"The Ministry does not have time to cater to the whims of delusional little boys, or bow to the pressures of wizards who are seeking to undermine the peace," Umbridge said. "If the Minister were to agree to your terms, how long would it be before you demand more, and more? How long will it be before you are running the Ministry for all intents and purposes?"

Harry's blood was reaching its boiling point: he remembered the first full day he'd known he was a wizard: how Hagrid had told him that Fudge was constantly asking Dumbledore for advice. At the time, he'd wondered whether a man like that should really be in charge of anything, but now he wished that Fudge still depended on Dumbledore; at least someone competent would be calling the shots. As he began to open his mouth, however, both Dumbledore's and Umbridge's gazes flicked to him, the former with a calm demand to control himself and the latter with barely restrained malice. Taking a breath, Harry forced calm back upon his own mind, and a moment later Justice acknowledged the assistance and faded back.

With the danger passed, the headmaster looked back at Umbridge, a profound sadness in his eyes. "I am disappointed that the Ministry cannot be convinced to put its people before itself," he said. "It seems that I will have to continue working in my own ways to prevent Voldemort from regaining the kind of power he held in those dark days." He paused, but Umbridge didn't take the offer to speak, so the Headmaster continued. "If you have any further questions on Harry's health, I would recommend that you direct them to Madam Pomfrey, the only trained Healer who has had a hand in Harry's care. Now, is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Slowly, Umbridge pressed her quill to a small holding clip on the side of the clipboard, not taking her eyes off Harry. "No, I believe I have a firm grasp on where everything stands," she said. "However, I will warn you: when I come to this school at the beginning of term, things will begin to change, Dumbledore, whether you like it or not. Good day." With that, she turned and walked away.

A long minute of silence passed before Dumbledore gave a small sigh and turned fully towards Harry. "I'm sure you have questions," he said, and Harry knew instinctively that he was speaking to both Harry and Justice as he did, "and I'll be happy to answer them if you'll just step into my office." Harry nodded quickly and immediately got up and followed the headmaster, sparing only a moment for a polite nod to Madam Pince, who huffed and went to clean up his books. After a minute of walking, Dumbledore spoke again. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Fine, sir," Harry said. "Will she be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "I certainly hope not, Harry," he said. "But we should hold on further discussion until we reach my office." Personally, Harry didn't understand why, but he decided to accept Dumbledore's request. Before long, the pair were once more in Dumbledore's office.

"Now, you were concerned about whether or not Dolores would become our newest professor, and I will admit that the thought is not one I am pleased with. With Voldemort on the rise, that particular class will be vital for the students of Hogwarts. However, unfortunately, it is possible that I will have no choice."

"Can't you find someone else, sir?" Harry said. "There has to be someone…"

"Sadly, it is not that simple. Our victory over Cornelius' hasty attempt to claim you was an important one; however there have been repercussions. Being overruled by the Wizengamot has shown Cornelius that his hold over the Ministry was not as complete as he believed, and he is now working to solidify that control. Sadly, with the help of certain groups that have a vested interest in Voldemort remaining undetected, they have a good chance of succeeding, at least for a time."

"Malfoy," Harry hissed.

"Among others, yes," Dumbledore said. "Unfortunately, since the Ministry has a great deal of control over the media, it is very difficult to convince the large number of people it would take to effect change that there is a serious issue. Eventually, more and more irrefutable evidence will appear, but I fear that Voldemort will have completed his preparations by then. As for our Professor issue, the Ministry has great power of coercion, and so even if I were to find someone there is a good chance that they would be able to convince them to step down."

"There have to be some people who aren't under the Ministry's sway!" Harry cried.

"There are some, yes, but unfortunately they are few and far between, and those that trust me have important missions elsewhere that they will not be able to complete should they take up the post. Plus, I cannot risk that the curse on the position will cause them irreparable damage, as it did to Professor Quirrell and Professor Lockhart."

Harry blinked, he'd heard the rumors that the position was cursed, but he'd thought it was just a coincidence that every one of his Defense professors had been forced to leave after one year. "There actually is a curse, sir?" he asked.

"I cannot be absolutely certain," Dumbledore said. "But since we have not been able to keep a professor for more than one year in decades, I believe it is plausible."

"But curses can be lifted," Harry said. "You're the greatest wizard in the world, there has to be something…"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "You flatter me, Harry. It is true that I am a powerful and talented wizard, but I am not omnipotent. Besides, if my suspicions are correct, this curse was cast by an equally talented wizard. As I have told you before, even if he has chosen to use his powers for evil, Lord Voldemort is exceptionally gifted in the magical arts."

"Voldemort?!" Harry gasped. "How did he…"

"Another story for another time, Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "The sad fact is that there is a distinct possibility that the Ministry will be able to ensure that Dolores Umbridge becomes our next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to prevent this, but it is very possible, perhaps even likely."

Justice's emotions flared. "There must be something that we can do!" he hissed in frustration. "Something Harry or myself-"

Dumbledore shook his head; he must still have been reading the spirit's thoughts. "I'm afraid not," he said sharply. "The two of you have far more important things to focus your attention on." Harry started to open his mouth, only to stop as he realized that Dumbledore's eyes were not twinkling. "Arthur told me about what happened last night. Is there anything either of you would like to tell me?"

Harry tensed. "That was different," he said automatically.

"It was a moment of weakness, a failing, my failing" Justice responded, and from the prickle at the edge of his mind Harry knew that Dumbledore's Leilimency had allowed him to hear as well. "Despite the circumstance, I should have been able to control myself." Harry sighed; the spirit had a point.

Dumbledore nodded. "I am glad that you are able to acknowledge your flaws, Justice," he said. "However, I would like to know what happened. Surely there have been other times when you have felt strong emotion without inadvertently taking over Harry's body."

"There are, but Harry is right that there were unusual circumstances," Justice said. "There is… a darkness here… something that has attached itself to Harry's soul. It… affects him, and through him, myself. I can contain it, but not destroy it."

Dumbledore's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly as Justice spoke, and he remained silent for a long minute afterwards. Finally, however, he spoke, his every word careful. "I see," he said. "Are you absolutely certain that you have it contained?"

"I am," Justice said. "It can still affect us, but not as much as before, and when it does we will know."

"Professor, what is it?" Harry asked.

For a moment, it seemed like Dumbledore wouldn't answer, but after that moment he did, though he did continue speaking carefully. "Do you remember what you and I discussed during your second year, just after Mr. Weasley and yourself rescued young Ginny Weasley and finally closed the Chamber of Secrets for good?" Harry tensed; he remembered it well. "I told you that, on the night your parents were killed, Voldemort inadvertently left a piece of his own power within you, which gives you access to Parseltounge as well as a connection that warns you when he is close. I believe that is what Justice has found."

"I see," Harry and Justice said together. It was clear to both of them that Dumbledore wasn't telling them the complete truth, but it was equally clear that they weren't going to be getting that information out of him before he was willing to divulge it. The Headmaster raised an eyebrow, but continued on as if he didn't know that they knew.

"Sadly, I do not believe there is anything to be done about it now; with almost fourteen years to ingrain itself into your shared mind." He peered over his half moon glasses. "However, do keep a very close eye on it, and should it begin to strengthen or act alarmingly, be sure to tell me at once. Will you do that?"

"…Of course," Harry said.

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes once again bright. "Then there's nothing more to say about the matter," he said. "I trust that you two will continue working well together." After a moment, he nodded. "Now, I'm sure you have more questions, and I will do my best to answer them."

"Will Mr. Weasley…"

"I do not believe he will be removed from office," Dumbledore said. "I have several sources closer to the Minister than he imagines, and they have informed me that he as not completely given up on the idea of young Percy Weasley being a potential source of information, despite what happened last night." That was good, Harry didn't know what he would do if it turned out that he was the reason that Mr. Weasley had been sacked, after all the Weasleys had done for him. Dumbledore, meanwhile, was still speaking. "That leads to an interesting point, Cornelius has developed such an interest in what happened to you that he is willing to follow up on any lead. Madam Pomfrey mentioned to me that she was approached by several Ministry agents a few days ago asking about you." He chuckled. "Sadly for them, Madam Pomfrey takes patient confidentiality very seriously, so all they received was a tongue-lashing for meddling in affairs that don't concern them. However, you should be careful, especially if the Undersecretary does become our newest Professor."

Harry, however, had a more important question. "When will I see the Weasleys again?"

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "It should not be too much longer. Perhaps two weeks: both to allow time for our Headquarters to be… cleaned, and to ensure that the Ministry does not intend to make any further attempts to claim you. I do not expect them to, but neither did I expect them to attempt to implement the Huntsman's Directive on you. It is best to be certain."

Harry, however, was thinking about something else that Dumbledore had said. "What do you mean, cleaned? I thought Headquarters was at Sirius' home?"

"It is. However, the house has been almost empty for years since his mother died. Since then, the magic of the house, which was never pleasant, has all but gone wild. Sirius is somewhat protected: the house recognizes him as its master, but others who spend too much time there are at risk. However, the worst of the magic has been brought under control, and the rest will soon follow. Once that is done, you will be able to join them, so long as the Ministry does not make any further attempts to claim you."

"I have seen places like that in my world," Justice said. "Where the Veil has been sundered and demons run amok… it is not a pleasant experience, even for me."

Dumbledore looked mildly curious. "It is a shame that there is so much to do," he said. "I admit myself to be interested about you and your world, Justice. Sadly, that is not to be." A minute passed before Dumbledore sighed. "If there are no more pressing questions, I'm afraid there are a few things that I need to take care of." Harry nodded quickly and left the office.

'I think this is the first time I've ever truly wanted to leave Hogwarts,' Harry though wryly as he walked through the silent halls. 'I hope the Ministry doesn't try anything else.'

* * *

><p>If the Ministry did make any moves, Harry didn't hear about them, either from the professors of Hogwarts or the Daily Prophet. He was glad of this: by the end of the second week he was almost bouncing off the walls. He couldn't use magic, he and Justice could only rarely attempt merging, and there was only so many times someone other than Hermione could go the library and not go crazy. Had he not had the Room of Requirement, he likely would have gone crazy. It didn't help that he wasn't getting a lot of information about what was going on outside the walls of Hogwarts. Dumbledore was gone more often than he was around, and even when he was at Hogwarts it was only for short periods of time and he never answered any of Harry's questions. Lupin had visited twice to pass on messages from Sirius that things were going well, but he too refused to give any details about what the Order was up to or when Harry could move to be around other people again.<p>

Finally, however, he walked into the Great Hall (which he ate in only out of habit rather than any real need,) only to come to a halt when he realized Professor McGonagall to be there, another relatively uncommon event. "Mr. Potter," she said crisply. "You will be leaving Hogwarts tonight to be moved to Headquarters. Pack your things and be ready to depart at nine o'clock sharp."

Harry's heart leapt. "How will I be getting there?" he asked.

"That will be discussed when the time comes," Professor McGonagall said. "Just be ready to leave then."

As Harry made his way back up to the dorm, breakfast forgotten, he realized that, despite the boredom, there was still a part of him that would be sad to leave the castle. Silent and empty as it was, it would always be the first place he had truly felt at ease, more a home than Privet Drive had ever been. Even though the Burrow now shared that, Hogwarts would always hold a special place in Harry's heart. Besides, he had come to like the Room of Requirement. 'We'll have to show the others once we get back,' he said to Justice, who simply "nodded." Even now, Harry still had trouble describing just what form communication with the spirit took some of the time. He put this out of his mind, however, as he focused on getting ready to relocate.

Finally, when nine o'clock arrived, Harry was sitting at the top of the stairs in the entrance hall beside his trunk and Firebolt when the massive double doors ground open, revealing a dozen witches and wizards, led the by large form of Mad Eye Moody. Harry's tensed second before he reminded himself that this was the real Moody, not Crouch or any other Death Eater.

As he began making his way down the steps, however, the ex-Auror raised a hand. "Sloppy, Potter," he called. "Even when you're expecting people, always assume that they've been compromised. Now ask a question that only one of us would know."

"Moody, is that really necessary?" a younger witch with shocking pink hair grumbled. Her voice was familiar, but it still took Harry a moment to connect the voice with the steely-haired form of Tonks. "You asked us all yourself, and no less than three of us asked you, so…"

"It's the principle of the matter!" Moody growled, his magical eye spinning to glare at her. "Proper security protocol must be observed at all times!"

"Yeah, yeah, constant vigilance and all that," Tonks said. "Alright, fine. Harry, please ask something so that we can leave sometime this hour."

Harry's eyes trailed briefly over the gathered crowd, looking for someone he knew well enough to ask a question that would satisfy Moody before resting on Remus Lupin. "What was the only thing you ever confiscated from me, Professor?" he said.

The werewolf chuckled. "I already told you, Harry, you don't have to call me that anymore," he said. "But to answer your question, it was the map that your father, Sirius, and myself made."

"I guess that'll do," Moody grumbled. "In future, Potter, you'd do well to think up a list of questions to ask everyone you know now, rather than be grasping for one at the last second, but for Merlin's sake don't tell them! If the Death Eaters interrogate them properly..."

"MOODY!" Tonks said. "Please, we know everyone's who they're supposed to be now, so can we go?" Everyone else in the group murmured their agreement.

"Fine, let's get going," Moody said. "You got everything you need?"

"Yes," Harry said, pulling his trunk down the stairs. "How is this going to work?"

"The Ministry is watching the Floo network as well as the Knight Bus, and as you are underage it is inadvisable to use either a Portkey or Side-Along Apperation near Hogwarts," Moody said. "So instead, you will fly with us to a safe house south of here, where you will be free to Floo to another location, where you will be escorted to your final destination. Understood?"

Harry blinked, that seemed rather complex. "Why can't we just Apperate from outside of Hogwarts?" he asked.

"The Trace, the thing that tells the Ministry when magic's going on around underage wizards," Moody growled. "The Ministry can tell what kind of spell is used, and if an Apperation is too close to you, they'll know about it and start asking questions and even if they couldn't cause problems on their own anything they know will get back to the Death Eaters. Once we get away from Hogwarts, however, we'll be safe enough to Floo; especially since they don't have the manpower to watch every fireplace. Of course, first you have to make it there, which is where we come in." Tonks rolled her eyes, but fortunately for her Moody's magical eye was fixed on Harry at the moment so he didn't notice. "Well, let's get your trunk on its way so we can go. It'll be at Headquarters before you arrive; no need to weigh us down on the trip."

Deciding not to argue, Harry pulled his trunk over to the group, where it was quickly grabbed by two of the guards. The two carried it along with the rest of the group as they made their way across the darkening grounds towards the gate. Harry's eyes were drawn to Hagrid's hut, and he realized with a twinge that he hadn't thought much for the half-giant since he spoke to him before school ended. "Has there been any word from Hagrid?" he asked.

"No," Lupin said. "But that's not surprising, he's traveling through rough terrain and avoiding detection, he won't be sending owls regularly. Don't worry, he's tough and he's got Madam Maxime with him. He'll be fine." Harry nodded, hoping the werewolf was right.

"Alright, is everyone ready?" Moody growled as he led the way out of the gates of Hogwarts, his magical eye spinning. "Now, we're going to fly in tight formation around Potter. If something happens, don't stop or break ranks; just keep flying to meet up with the reserves." Tonks muttered something under her breath, but if the ex-Auror heard he chose to ignore it. "Let's fly."

Kicking off, Harry smiled as he felt the air flow around him. Like many things, the Room of Requirement wasn't able to perfectly replicate the indescribable feeling of the cool air whipping by his ears, and he had to prevent himself from accelerating to his full speed: the Firebolt was still the fastest broom in the world by a significant margin, and from the looks of it most of the guard were flying various Cleansweep models with the occasional Nimbus 2000 thrown in.

"Just be glad that Dumbledore talked Moody out of having us fly all the way to Headquarters," Tonks said as she orbited Harry. "He was seriously pushing for it." Harry grimaced, he and Ron had flown in the old Ford Anglia, and that had been uncomfortable enough; making the same trip on a broom at night would be even worse.

As they continued to fly, Harry turned his thoughts inwards to the silent Justice. 'Any thoughts on this Trace?' he asked.

'Yes, actually,' the spirit said. 'I believe I discovered it when I was searching for the cause of my outburst at the Burrow, but after I determined that it was not what I sought I put it aside. Now… If I'm right, it is actually quite a clever spell: it amplifies the ripples in the Fade that occur whenever a mage casts a spell. I assume that somewhere in the Ministry there are mages who are on the lookout for these ripples.'

'Is there a way to stop it?' Harry asked.

'If my theory is correct, then yes,' Justice said. 'I need simply counteract the amplification when a spell is cast; potentially troublesome but not difficult.'

Harry considered; it would be nice to be able to actually use magic if he needed to, but there were still some questions… "Pro… Lupin?" he called as his former teacher flashed by.

"Yes, Harry?" the man replied.

"I've been thinking about this Trace, and I have two questions. First, why does it detect spells I don't cast, and second why aren't there constant alerts for magical families?"

Lupin laughed. "Very good questions, Harry!" he called. "To answer your first, it is simply an easier spell to cast than one that ignores all spells other than the child's, and with many magical children being born or discovered every year the Ministry is happy to accept anything that saves time and effort; it's already tricky enough to set it to automatically lift when the child reaches an age of majority. To answer your second question; there are almost constant false alarms, so much so that they are completely ignored. Wizarding families are assumed to be able to teach their own children the importance of following the rules on underage magic." There was a pause in the conversation as Lupin orbited away from Harry, which gave the young wizard time to consider before his former teacher returned. "In fact, the Trace was not originally put on Wizarding children at all; but in 1888 there were a series of murders that were eventually traced back to an underage wizard; and a law was passed declaring that the Trace was to be put on all children with magic." Lupin smiled grimly. "That law has been repeatedly challenged by the likes of the Malfoys, but it remains in effect to this day."

Harry nodded; that made sense. "So it lifts by itself?"

"Yes, at seventeen. It's actually a very complex bit of magic, especially since it has to be resistant to all manners of counter spells. There are ways to get around it, but those are equally complex and not well known." Again, Lupin's voice faded as he moved away before continuing when he returned. "Now, where we're going will be protected from the Trace, but it would still be good for you to exercise restraint; or Molly will be quite upset." Harry wasn't quite sure if Lupin was referring to using his wand or Justice.

The trip continued in silence, save for Moody shouting course changes every few minutes, seeming to take great cares to direct them through every cloud formation in their path. Harry found himself very grateful for Oliver Wood; his former captain's maniacal training program had gotten the team so wet that this felt positively leisurely to Harry, at least for the time being. The same could not be said for some of the guards, as he could hear Tonks swearing under her breath ever time she came close. Finally, however, the ex-Auror called for a general decent, angling towards the front gate of a decently sized estate.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as he touched down, his eyes flicking over the old walls.

"The Longbottom estate," Moody grunted, his eyes spinning. "Augusta Longbottom's an old friend of the Order and was kind enough to let us use her Floo to get you to London, so long as we did it quickly." Raising a hand, he grabbed rope hanging from the inside of the large bell with lion motifs and rang it. A few moments later, the iron gate creaked open of their own accord, allowing the ex-Auror to enter, followed by Harry and Lupin. "Stay on the path, whatever you do." Harry was about to ask why, before deciding that he really didn't want to know. If Neville's grandmother was as talented at Herbology as he was, then there were likely all manner of nasty plants hanging around.

"The rest of the Guard will Apperate to our destination and meet us there," Lupin said as he followed Harry up the path. "We don't want to test Mrs. Longbottom's patience."

Moody, meanwhile, had reached the front door and used the lion-headed knocker to announce his presence. This time, there was no pause between the echoes of the knock ending and the door swinging open, revealing a woman that Harry vaguely remembered from his first trip to Platform 9 3/4. Tall and thin, she nevertheless had an aura of authority about her as she studied them from the foot of the main staircase. 'Another relative of McGonagall and Bones?' Harry thought.

"You are late," she said sharply. "I was expecting you five minutes ago." Harry glanced at Moody out of the corner of his eyes, wondering if the old Auror had finally met his match.

The scarred man, however, refused to be cowed. "Can't be too careful," he shot back.

"Of course," Mrs. Longbottom said. "That is why I always keep a mousetrap in my handbag. I trust that bit of trivia will suffice that I am no imposter in my own home? You'll forgive me for not drawing this out further by asking you something in turn: if the Order has been infiltrated so deeply that the Ministry or You-Know-Who know to come here at this time with someone who looks like Harry Potter, then we have larger problems."

Moody looked like he was considering pushing the issue, but Lupin nudged his shoulder. "We thank you for your help, Mrs. Longbottom," he said, bowing slightly as he stepped over the threshold.

"The House of Longbottom has always been proud to be a part of the fight against the Dark Arts, Remus Lupin," Mrs. Longbottom said haughtily. "That fact has not changed because of the blind fools who currently hold power in the Ministry." Her eyes turned to Harry, spending only a fraction of a second on his scar before shifting to his eyes. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mr. Potter. My grandson speaks highly of you."

"Thank you," Harry said. "How's Neville?"

"He is well enough," Mrs. Longbottom said. "Now, if you'll come this way, I've prepared a fireplace for your use." Harry glanced at Lupin, wondering if he should say anything else. His old professor, however, shook his head silently as he nudged Harry to follow Mrs. Longbottom into a small parlor off the main hall, where a fire was already crackling merrily. Rather than the old flowerpot that the Weasleys used, Mrs. Longbottom lifted a small but fancy vase off of the mantle and offered it to the three wizards. Harry took a small handful, silently bracing himself for his least favorite method of travel.

'It is a rather fascinating arrangement,' Justice said as Lupin stepped forward and took a pinch before tossing it into the flame, turning it green.

'What is?' Harry asked.

'Everything,' Justice said as the former professor vanished in a rush of green fire. 'Things seemed… so much simpler, when I was in Thedas. Here… there are so many shadows; twists and turns of…'

"Come on, Potter, we don't have all night," Moody growled, pushing Harry forward. "You're flooing to a place called the Platform Drop-off. Normally used for Hogwarts students to get to Platform 9 ¾ if they live to far for other methods, but Dumbledore has a friend who got it reactivated and is keeping to from being monitored."

Grimacing, Harry stepped into the fireplace; he really hated this method of travel. "Platform Drop-off," he said as clearly as he could through the lingering ash from Lupin's transit.

Thankfully, it seemed he'd made it to the right place as he stumbled out and was steadied by Lupin. A moment later, Moody arrived and stepped out as if he'd done it a hundred times before, his magical eye spinning. "Any trouble?" he asked.

"No," Lupin said. "The rest of the Guard have cleared the area and are spreading themselves along the path to Headquarters. It should be a quick walk."

"Good," Moody said, his eye still moving. "Still, keep your wand out. The mission isn't over until he's safely behind the Headquarter's defenses-"

"We know, Moody, we know," Lupin said as he led the way across the deserted platform, the slightest crack in his patience showing in his voice.

As Lupin had predicted, the trip was short. Every now and then, Harry was able to pick out one of his guards standing around inconspicuously… or at least trying to, in a few cases. Moody muttered something about unprofessionalism every now and then, but kept going at a brisk pace. Finally, the three of them walked onto a darkened street. "Here, Potter, take this," Moody growled, thrusting something into Harry's hand. Cocking his head; he realized that it was a piece of paper with some sort of writing on it: it was too dark for him to read.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Just read it and think about what it says," Moody said, lighting his wand silently and thrusting it next to the paper so that Harry could finally see what was written.

"_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._"

Almost as soon as the last word registered in Harry's mind; a strange chill passed over him. 'What was that?' he thought warily, looking around.

'Some sort of spell,' Justice thought back, his own voice cold. 'I do not believe it was dangerous, but…'

Before the spirit could continue, a flash of motion caught Harry's eye, and as he looked up he realized that something was appearing between two of the houses in front of him. "A Fidelus charm…" he whispered as he watched a house that looked identical to the others on the street grow as if was being inflated.

"Yep," Moody growled, yanking the paper out of Harry's hand and stuffing it into his pocket; likely to dispose of later. "Now hurry, get in before someone sees you." Nodding, Harry made his way up the path after the ex-Auror and stepped in as the door was held open.

He had barely stepped over the threshold when a wave of agony hit him and the world went black.

…

_Blood. Death. Pain._

"Harry!_"_

_Misery. Darkness. Hate._

"_Close the door, damn it!"_

_Torn. Corruption. Danger._

"_What's going on- Harry!? Oh Merlin, what happened?!"_

'_Murderer! Demon!' 'Freak! Abomination!'_

"_Get back, give him some room!"_

_A high, cold laugh… A pillar of red…_

"Filth! Scum! By-products…_"_

'_Not like this… _never again_…'_

"_**Shut up, you old hag!**__"_

"_I… will not… "_SUBMIT!_"_

_Screams. Then only silence._

* * *

><p><span>Department of Mysteries Research Project Notes<span>

Lead Researcher: Broderick Bode (B.B.)

Secondary Researcher: Michael Edwards (M.E.)

Subject: The Black Taint (B.T.)/Subject Origin/Subject Beta

Log 39:

Antidote Test 3.2 failed with another twenty rats, but this time, something unusual happened. During previous tests, all control rats expired within an hour of being injected with the B.T. while rats given the antidote would last anywhere from two to five hours. However, in this test, one of the control rats survived. It was violently mutated by the BT, but it is currently still alive nearly ten hours after Test 3.2 was administered.

Attempts to study this rat, henceforth known as Subject Delta, were hindered by a dramatic rise in aggressive behavior. Researcher M.E. was nearly bitten by Delta, and it was decided to postpone examination until Delta expires. Also, we are preparing another batch of rats to undergo B.T. injection. With any luck, we will have more survivors to run tests on.

We're onto something. I can feel it.

PS: Several researchers have reported hearing indistinct voices while working. Check with other projects to ensure that there have been no leaks.

_AN: It lives. I'm sorry I haven't updated this in months, but I swore that I'd see this story through one day, and I will. RL just had some things to throw my way, along with my other stories were going better for me._

_About reviews: there's just such a backlog that if I responded to each of them I'd probably go on longer than this chapter. So, as of now, I will not be directly responding to each comment, but I _am_ reading them and I _do_ appreciate them._

_Thank you for all those who have stuck the wait out._


End file.
